you are a familiar weight in my pocket

You are the color that spoiled my drawing
You are my tower that won't stop falling
You are the show that comes on after cartoons
You are the voice booming to clean up my room
You are the place I attend but I hate
You are my fear of imminent change
You are my tape that's been recorded over
You are my lack of four-leaf clovers

...

Despite all the negatives
You are the one reason I live
You allowed me to get by
Raising me to places that were too high

You were my sense of creativity
A uniqueness that's since escaped me
You were my freedom of consumption
Stripped away by malicious symptoms
You were the air rushing by my head
A sensation I've yet to feel again
You were my house I wish to return,
It's interior for which I still yearn
You were the tail at the top of the stairs
You were the inspiration for my hair
You were my censor of violence
You are a body of my innocence



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