Empty (PT 2)

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 Empty.

Each day mirroring the last.

A never ceasing rotating door of monotony.

I always wake to the same 

Falling asleep to the cries of exhaustion and the haunting feeling that my life amounts to nothing. 

I feel no greater sense of anything these days.

A pitifully faint pulse emanates from my thin neck.

Two fingers shaking as they lower in acceptance. 

I told myself it would never get this bad again. 

God, is it still a sin to lie if it is only to myself?

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