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Appendicitis
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1
There were times that I wanted it
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So bad that I made it hurt,
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But now I wait as patiently as I can
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For my heart to ache again.
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Now I've a shell I could sell as warmth
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That I can always hide in.
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I want that home to be nice, my pride and joy.
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But it won't ever own a bed.
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There are some that could come close
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And sometimes hurt more than they help.
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But I'm fine with the flies landing on me.
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Where they will go away and I end up somewhere else.
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I can't look a dog in the eyes.
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One that just wants to lick me.
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Secrets in a vault that eat your insides like acid
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And mean nothing to anyone else.
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But it's the inflatable cross you bear
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And it's a self-importance you carry to think it means something.
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(But it doesn't and you punch yourself in the head for it and then)
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You crouch into a box where you pretend it doesn't exist.
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The fear can sit there.
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Stewing, festering, growing, the box grows too.
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You build your world around it.
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