However do I spill this?

Do you see how thin I look?

My eyes are blind

I hear loud noises every now and then

Like a train of loaded thoughts passing through my brain.

Yes, I also can't breathe well on Fridays 

When I see Mr. Renfield

Feeding his mule

With grass from our farm.

When I decide to take my life

You'll know

That all along

The signs were there- 

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