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Ive gotten good at hiding, when I feel like hiding.
My mouth is great at running, when I feel like running.
Now Im biting the hairs on my arm like I do
When I dont know where I am or what I should do.
Ive been blessed with these eyes that come
With innocent questions like where Im from.
Holding expectations to give obvious answers and tell no lies.
But I swear theres nothing innocent in these eyes,
Because Ive seen dead friends, and Ive seen murder,
And Ive done things I wish I hadnt done.
But thats not to say that Im not afraid
Of long nights dwelling on past mistakes,
Because with life moving as fast as it does,
Ill still have stories to fucking tell.
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