Goodnight, Poppet
How do I keep writing when my words have no sense, how can I keep going, from happy to tense, how do I keep going wrong, why does my poem turn into song?
Why do I struggle to fall asleep, why do my words hurt so deep, why does night fall upon me, what is there that I can't see?
Why do demons haunt my dreams, why is life ripping at the seams, why does it hurt to breathe so slow, why does it seem I have nowhere to go?
Why is death always on my mind, why is pain never far behind, why do I struggle to smile so kind, why don't I giggle or laugh or unwind?
Why do I ask all these meaningless things, when tomorrow even no answer brings. Goodnight, poppet, and sweet horror dreams, I know you'll hear my anguished screams.
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