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As I grow more jaded
The calluses extend to my perception.
Mind narrows, closes – blinkered by inhibitions
And carved to fit the shape of someone else's hands.

All my thoughts come vacuum-sealed.
I've forgotten how to feel.
Living never seemed less real.
I've forgotten how to feel.

It grows so hard to care
Or to know whether anything that
Crosses my mind
Isn't an affectation
Like everything else.




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