A man is a man,
and a man is a hiding place.
Your flaws are just features of the cavern I created for myself to waste away.
I used to wait for you by the lakes,
do you remember?
The night would fall and I would be found on the bank,
silently begging for you to push me into the water,
but you didn’t have the same evil urges that existed inside me,
and you’d just smile sweetly, holding my hand and hoping for the best.
It made me sick.
I’m still having anxious nightmares about secrets I’ve already spilled.
I thought I’d stopped running,
but I wake up in a wayward gaze at 4am every night, staring at her in the mirror, waiting for it to stop.
I don’t like this,
and I don’t like you,
but you’re all I’ve got,
(except the cavern),
so don’t go to waste like this,
it wasn’t meant to be like this.
That’s why I’m back at the lake,
waiting for you,
but you’re late.
I’m on a tight schedule,
I’ve got to drown and then scream to be saved before dawn,
so where are you?
Where can I hide?
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