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If I die tomorrow...
Don't tell my friends.
Tell them I traveled to a far away place, they'll never see.
Tell them of how famous I am for my talents, but they'll never see me on the news.
Tell them of how lucky I am, but they'll never see me in the lottery drawings.
If I die by my own hands,
Don't tell my friends.
Tell them how old and wrinkled my hands grew, instead.
Tell them of my joyous, happy life.
Don't tell them of my sorrows and greif, those are only for me to carry.
Don't tell them how heavy everything was, how my thoughts were hurtful.
Dont tell my friends how responsibilities pulsed in my skull, constantly, and how I always ignored them.
If I die.
Lie to my friends.
I don't want them to know, who I am underneath the shattered visage they seek.