I am a number,
there is infinitely many like me,
but there can only be one me.

I have never felt this overwhelmed before
I have never been this outnumbered before
I think I thought I am all secured
But why is this burning me to the core

Why did you say we were infinite
When in fact we truly have a limit
I thought you said we can’t be restricted
Then why is it that a determinate I was granted

Where is that infinity you talk about
Now that from forever we were locked out
They broke us down, split us apart, we are to burnout
Then, in our new form, we will turn out

But after all the process, I have concluded and seen
That maybe in a mess, there is beauty hidden
And maybe change is indeed the only thing permanent
Even in the world of numbers, being finite is imminent

To infinity and beyond.
More like, to nothingness and somewhere we don't know.



Spill it out, bruh.

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