The way my brain bends the numbers inside my head
The way my mouth says the words that should not be said
The way my heart breaks at the thought of your face
The way my blood pumps through like a melodic race
One time I read this murder mystery
I felt like I was reading future history
I turned the page five hundred times
Only to turn out to find
That I should put the book back on the shelf
Cause it was really me who killed myself
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