it's always bittersweet, it used to come so easily.
For when I'm discovered, the fever starts all over.
I know the tremors haven't passed.
but the sweat on my face you keep trying to wipe away.
I've never been this cold.
If you could just lend me your eyes, then I might find the strength to see a different light.
Or maybe I could close my lids without seeing the words burned onto the back of them:
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