Doomed in a history subject to repitition, lay the shards of glass that are my broken heart.
Naivity holds truth in the disbelief in self worth. Red lights and boom gates mock me, a poetic reiteration of what I cannot have. Happiness.
Security.
Love.
Reveal to me my true self, standing amongst the haze of lights, a minute too late and now forced to repeat until fortunate death do us part.
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