Feel like I'm all alone,
Shivering down to the bone.
This cold is what keeps me going.
A warm heart's eroding.
I keep still, trying to relax,
But all my patience is out of wack.
I wanted to be someone--someone noble.
But I've got too many loose screws.
Plus I'm antisocial.
What is a breath if all it inhales is pollution?
On my head there lies a protrusion.
Ignorance, ready to burst through my skull.
Perhaps I should be as indifferent as Camus's The Fall.
I'm jaded, no longer enticed.
All I do is complain, but some help would be nice.
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