I don't know what to believe,

I don't know what's happening to me.

I'm stuck in a void of past and future here.

The present's overrated, 

maybe it's supposed to be that way.

You saw your future self boarding a train bound the other way.

You waved, and waved back to yourself,

maybe youre sick?

Maybe I'm sick.

The view from your hospital window

lead me to think I was closer than I was.

Too late for the train in your future.

What's to come?

What have you done?

My teeth,

well, they hurt like sin.

And your fever,

it feels hot upon my skin.

Your lips taste like salt,

and it doesn't bother me.

This story is locked in a vault

until you find the key.

This poem is about: 
My family


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