I am the Nightmare lingering within your reality. Making you question your existence, making you wonder what it will take for you to find the truth.
I am the Problem Child with no problems. Just left alone and annihilated, fading into Earth's core; Try to pull me up but I'll only sink more.
I am the Demon you nullify acknowledgement and refuse to speak of. I hang around stabbing you with great regret of how I shouldn't have made it alive.
I am the Voice of your guilty conscience. You listen to me only to never hear what you want, ignoring the distasteful truth compared to your incoherent desire.
I am the Painful Reminder of your past. What should have been, what should be done, is it too late to abort?
I am the Silent Cries for every soul that has lured me. Becoming a sponge for your hate, soaking in your tears to keep you from drowning.
I am the Record that eventually skips. I soon become predictable and cliched, suddenly outcast-ed by those I need most.
I am the Murderer, that only wants to kill myself. But that doesn't matter, put me in a box and bury me to only be forgotten.
I am the Ticking Time Bomb that can't be stopped. The more you try to stop me is the more time wasted, for you can only watch in grief as the clock strikes to none.
I am the Careless for my own needs. I'm too damaged to reconstruct so please, throw me away.
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