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Identity Crisis
I'm not myself, so whom am I to blame?
All I do is bring drugs, disgrace, and shame.
I lie to myself for the thrill;
but the wasting feelings stand still.
It's the wasting away feeling of our love
It needs some insinuation like a push or a shove.
My heart is a bleached coral reef,
unhealthy and unique,
but still,
I'm not something you need.
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