I think a lot, perhaps too much.
I tend to live inside my mind.
I walk between my thoughts, alone..
Those demons became my only friends.
After midnight they're my enemies.
They scream, cry and hurt my mind.
Tortured memories fly and hurt me like a knife on a fresh skin.
They think I'm too quiet but inside..
Inside of me there's a storm of scars.
I can't connect with my own vibe.
I think a lot, perhaps too much.
I tend to live inside my mind but..
If you were there to listen to me, I wouldn't think alone.
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