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When the sun sets on the west and the light begins to fade, my mask comes off and my demons come crawling in my bed to accompany me for the night. Constellation of thoughts running in my head, galaxy of concealed emotions in this gullible and fragile heart keep me awake and as I stare in my pitch-black room comes the tears running freely down my cheeks. Why is it so hard to be human? Life is getting lonelier as you age, it gets more complicated. Why do people cannot love your demons as much as they love you?
