Decided to draw how my chest felt at 4 AM last night.

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Naizo

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What to do when nobody looks at you.

What to do when no words describe your mind.

What to do when you are empty. And you can't even lift a pinky.

Introspection leading to pain. Nothing but hooks and needles on the inside, holding together a mound of flesh, a pile of muscles, and a jumble of bones. A falsetto soul. A fake. A shadow of what once was. Empty. Only the hooks and needles stopping you from plummeting into the Tartarus within ones own mind.

I am alone... she is gone. And nobody gives me a chance to be what I can be... Frustration... fist meets metal. Scars. Bruises. Tears.
So much built up... outside begins to reflect the inside as it pours out, over the facade. The smile falls as all things do, gravity, the gravity of all things pulling you down. What goes up must come down. Common sense... You can't fight reality...
 
I'm sorry. I've got some practice sketches I'm gonna upload that don't come with such dark words.
 

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