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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I hate that I can write this Because it means on one level or another One of us failed the other Or perhaps we failed ourselves Did I ever know I'd be your tragic hero? It's hard to predict when digging oneself out of mud takes precedence Exhuming myself from my then-current title And plot points that led me to be buried It's astounding how a porcupine can truly live Where the two stand at quill's length Cautious yet enamored Wincing as small wounds get deeper It's further astounding that I parade myself as God And that I've convinced myself so thoroughly of the lie That even when hiding the simplest thought as deep as possible You still managed to cling to the belief Follow the god that failed you Or is it you who has failed God? Has any slight actually been committed Or are we both so hopelessly tangled in our own stories? Did I ever know you'd be my tragic hero? Equal parts pity, equal parts fear And I let my sun shine bright With the basic facts of what you are To fetishize the basic tenants of human courtesy Did I unintentionally put you on a pedestal? But I know you've always subscribed to the same flavor of fear With its ever more generous delivery dates Perhaps I'm the one being infantilized How strong are your convictions that you're so convinced you could kill me? Through daring to show emotion when I beg you to be flamboyant with it Exactly how hard are you worried you'll hit me? Thus in the end, we are tragic heroes You mistake silence for a child's crib A permanent safe spot for me To sleep when you're afraid to open up So here I am, again a tragic hero Is my mistake thinking that love is for me? When simply existing is enough To turn the brightest dawn into dusk.
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