The thread is growing bare
It doesn't even match my coat
It's frayed beyond repair
Some are born with an armored sleeve
Immune to wear and tear
Others are born to pick your strings
Clipping you without care
Some are born with a plastic sleeve
Looking true but not quite real
They pull you in and steal your breath
Consuming you as a meal
My heart is stitched upon my sleeve
With a needle made of steel
Its colors bleeding, its unsewn parts
Weaving deeply for me to feel
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