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Without you; I cannot sleep. I cannot be happy. I cannot do anything. I cannot even bear myself.
I still find myself chasing the impossible. So desperately trying, only knowing nothing but failure. nothing but pain. I only want the things I can't have.
My problem is that I rely way too much on other people for happiness, and no one is ever there. I put other people before myself, because I know I'm not worth it. And I hate myself because of it.
If I were a poet, I'd probably write about love. I'd probably write about first isses, and dates; sitting together at the park eating KFC and laughing at the world.