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Day One

"Maybe things will get better."
Why does that seem like such a lie?
All the things I took as a certainty,
suddenly, the well has run dry.

I can't go on. I can't sleep, I can't breathe, I can't think anymore.

Blind-sided by things
beyond my own control
In these cold November days,
I am left with nothing to hold

I can't go on. I can't sleep, I can't breathe, I can't think anymore.