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Examining

 

Could it be we two are alike

This stolen innocence of ours

Long before our toys were put to rest

 

I was twelve and learned to choose like adults

I was a f**king child

Innocence taken by a minister

 

I was forced to grow up

With scratches on my back

And teeth marks on my ear

 

What was your instrument of damnation

A lecherous Uncle perhaps

Or some other relative

 

It had to be someone close to you

Because to this very day

It prompts you to be wary even in slumber

 

You are shallow and always scared

Still running from monsters in the dark

I know this because sleep eludes me as well

 

I wake up in sweats reliving those moments

Without stimulates to enable me

I sleep in stolen moments between nightmares

 

Maybe the drugs we ingest are merely substitutes

Little white pills for the nightmares that haunt us

Or you could very well be right

 

That it

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