I have clothed myself in the tattered remains of my youth.
The vestigial remains of a coat once worn proudly, now frayed with grief and regret.
I wrap the garment around my skin, searching for some semblance of the boy I was.
But this coat no longer fits the fraction of a man that I’ve become.
I wish that things could have been different,
But no matter what I do it’s never good enough
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