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Without you;     I cannot sleep. I cannot be happy. I cannot do anything. I cannot even bear myself.
I still find myself chasing the impossible.   So desperately trying, only knowing nothing but failure.                    nothing but pain.   I only want the things I can't have.
My problem is that I rely way too much on other people for happiness,       and no one is ever there. I put other people before myself,      because I know I'm not worth it. And I hate myself because of it.  
If I were a poet, I'd probably write about love.   I'd probably write about first isses, and dates; sitting together at the park eating KFC and laughing at the world.  
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