No longer human

In my chest exists a water well that burns my lungs.

I’ve built it for every dark corner of each room I step in.

It bottles me and deprives me of air, yet I keep my gasps quiet to not disturb the room that echoes with contentment .

I’ll use this knife that sculpted me, and carve out every part that wears a frown.

The last bits of my sincerity will whither away and mold into someone that keeps them laughing.

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