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sometimes theres a stranger in me.
when you arent you anymore.
when theres a stranger who has your name,
uses your voice,
impersonates your smirk when things arent funny.
and this stranger,
it doesnt feel anymore.
just goes through the motions of our lives.
because thats what the stranger does for us,
lives when we cant bear to live anymore.
when our breaths are short,
when food is ash,
when sleep is our only comfort in life.
when you cant seem to differenciate
love and hate,
pleasure or pain.
that stranger is the shadow of our very being.
seen as the villan.
the one to distrust and be locked away.
but in truth,
what is this stranger but our dark hero?
the one who keeps us living,
when death seems to be the lesser of two evils.
sometimes there is a stranger in me.
theres a stranger in all of us.