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Well-designed and clever disguise
We'll retreat to the bottom of the sea
We were destined to live out our lives
Underwater, you and me

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Hello, I'm 16 years old and am still finding myself. That is all.

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Trumpets...
Wednesday, June 24, 2009 7:36 PM
play sick lullabies.

Skeletons sit around the table, teacups hanging from the pinky.
I can hear them chattering as I lay in bed.
Chattering of teeth, chattering of talk of life.
Of death, love, and of loss.
I lift myself from my bed, toes padding to the window.

Silence.

Eye sockets seem to turn in their skulls.

Trumpets begin.
Trumpets play sick lullabies.

Blink.

It's morning, I look in the mirror.

Disgusting.

I drift down to breakfast.
I don't eat.

The day progresses.

The night falls, I listen hard.
And finally, as the clock strikes 1 am.
The clicking of the dead wafts through my slightly open window.

A voice comes.
"Stop."

I wake, it's morning.
I don't eat.

The day progresses.

A voice visits me while I sleep.
"I just knew I'd find you here...I knew I'd find you here.."

I open my eyes.

A dull morning greets me.

I look in the mirror.

Nothing but bones.

I wasn't born to be a skeleton.