Trying

I’m sick of trying. So hard. So hard to please you and you and you. To act like you and you and you. To write like you and you and you. To feel like a romantic tragedy. To fight like a war. To hurt like death. To die like a martyr. I’m sick of trying. So hard. So hard to live life. To live life so hard that I feel like a romantic tragedy and I fight like a war and I hurt like death and I die like a martyr. I have to stop trying. So hard. To be. To be me. I have to stop trying. So hard. To exist. For I do. Without trying.

 

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