116. Blinding Highs

When I'm having unending days,
I walk out into the light
Blinding me with highs.

When I ruminate on sunny rays,
I blast affirmations to
Deafen from the lows.

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
I use my aim on this trickshot,
To lie my senses into artificial light.

My muzzle is thrown aside,
This is me willing to confide,
My eyes half awake to fears tide.

I keep my hand outstretched,
Hoping to pull you into heaven.
I keep my hand outstretched,
Praying you'll pull me from hell.

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