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I asked for clean hands and a pure heart
But the blood on them tears me apart

It’s not with intention
But the grief I let pass me by is unforgivable

I see things, I hear things, God made sure of that
No one understands my plight or knows of it save one

And he is gone, perhaps forever, he forgot me when I left

It screams and cries to be heard and known
But I cannot understand it

I try to and fail, and fall, and flail
I cling to the past because I was happy once

And now I know a happiness of a different sort…
Why can they not combine?

Confusion is the word of the day, or days
Or months, or however long I spend in this…

My long suffering internal chamber of madness
Punctuated by brief bursts of grief and longer bouts of depression

Woe is me, who finds such guilt in guilt and woe
And so I smile and face the world. Adieu

I've been trying to change my avatar for four years...

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The following comments are for "A jumbled mess that mirrors my life in structure and substance"
by frenchie

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