Tell me what the thoughts count for
They’re all looking at me
I’m discovered, standing exposed
and my eyes quiver
I’m trapped behind the hazy view
We all know what rhymes with hazy
You don’t have to say it
I already feel it and I’m terrified of that word
Absolutely terrified.

but I’ve shed the solutions I abused in response
Why don’t I feel better?
Why doesn’t it count?
Just the thought counts, just the thought
It’s no wonder I don’t like math
There’s too many thoughts that I must keep locked away
Secrete, I don’t want these secrets

Are they still lies if I know I’m being false?
Is it false if I’m making the choice to be fake to protect myself?
Am I the one making the thoughts count by writing them down?

I’m bruised and worn from doubt
Nauseous because I know I shouldn’t think the things I think
but what if I’m supposed to…

I can’t bring myself to finish that thought
but it lives there in the negative space
I live in the negative space
It’s impossible to shield my face
and most of the time I’m not sure that I have one
I know I’ve broken myself
Maybe it’s too harsh of a word but it seems right
It seems to fit and one can’t argue with puzzles
A corner is a corner


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