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Ah yes, the alters are back to make even less sense then they did prior. Enjoy or not to enjoy, no longer a question. Be somebody.

I feel myself dissipate.
Though ever so slowly, I can feel it growing.
The ticking tock of my winding clock.
My heart palpitates as though unsure,
of whether to fear or anticipate the ever near.

I pull the covers back over my head.
To bask in your smell, embrace your bed.
Which holds me almost as tightly as you.
Could this actually be a dream come true?

Oh sweet sorrow, will you welcome me now?
As I lay and find that I cannot press down.
For this knife does it’s purpose, though only for a moment.
Will you give me the strength or shall I simply just hold it?

Mother may I, have one wish.
Of which I’d ask for anything but this.
For what is it, oh yes, sweet bliss.
Your presence, I promise, I shall not miss.
Of which you cannot take as a diss.
Since I’ll be kind and seal with a kiss.

Oh sweet desire,
must you cast me out.
Breathe into me, bring me life,
Speak to me, don’t show me doubt.
I held you, had you and then just lost you.
Could it have really been just a dream.
I fear I awoke much too quickly,
Can we fall back asleep?

Being sober feels more like a test of sanity.
How many interactions with the world before I fully give up.
So fed up of tarnished and consuming vanity.