What's wrong?
It hurts, sure, it hurts some more,
but that won't stop me, won't hinder or block me.
The scratch scratch scratch, the plaster a patch,
still there, the scabbed over, ever there, covered over.
What's my problem? Not like yours.
There's a problem. Why complain? Love cures.
It cures and harms, just look at my arms,
hold on tight, don't let go, get away, don't ever show.
All a show, I wear a mask. All for show, my crumpled mask.
More than ever my mask slips.
More than ever words fall from lips.
Secrets locked up. I should be locked up.
What's wrong in my head? I'm what's wrong with my head.
A total blank, that's what I feel. The vault of a bank, what's in is real.
So many secrets and so many pains, but what's the point? Nobody gains.




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