My life is like a living music box
It keeps on playing when I want it to stop
It will only stop when I want it to not
People continue to wind me up when I’m already wound
Running myself into the ground
Chasing dreams that are fading; not to be found
The past hovers over my shoulder
It’s face covered; I smolder over the last hold of her
I’ve grow bolder, each moment I get colder
Shoving the truth right back into the corner
I’m a hoarder of regrets
I would take an order to happily forget the choices I have made;
To build up a border, make a fence
Stand up to fight against everything I’ve told her, my defense.

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