Sometimes I wake up,
Void, empty inside,
My subconscious very absent,
I feel the need to hide.
It's on these days I wish,
I was somebody new,
Somebody very different,
And that I had a clue.
Self-hating days are plenty,
Sitting on my own,
Wondering how life would be,
In a different tone.
Envious of those who know,
Exactly who they are,
Because I just don't think I'll get-
Going this way - far.
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