𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓹

sometimes I lose my grip.
Sometimes I hold on to life but I still slip.

I guess it’s part of my healing.
The love isn’t quite there.
Pain is all I’ve been receiving.
My heart is here.
Maybe it’s why the pain is so revealing.

I’m always wearing my heart on my chest.
Open to stray bullets.
A constant target for distress.
Not sure where the escape route is.

I’m fine for a bit.
And a few moments later, I can’t catch my grip.

No matter how tight I’ve held on, my arms doesn’t seen strong.
Something goes wrong and again, I slip.

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