Rubbing Train

​Rocking back and forth like an old train freight, team work doesn’t exist with a physical body when you already have your own split companion
I swear that I am so dark but with a sweet twist, bittersweet aftertaste

Going down like grave diggers falling
I’m cold before the winter season creeps in, so stealth and hidden amongst the charred embers
I’ve traveled to more places emotionally, than ive stepped foot in another realm
And you wouldnt know, couldn’t possibly know that I’ve changed

I’ve created a soft balance between distancing and

Dying
Sometimes they appear the same on me, like the same dark shirts I throw on

Waking up and rubbing my eyes with yesterday’s harmful hits

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