You watch me as I fall to the floor
Dyeing of wounds no one can see
My heart an open, bleeding sore
You pass by, you ignore my plea
You smile as my breathing slows
Bleeding of cuts that suffered no blade
My screams as my anguish grows
You look away, you could have stayed
You laugh at me when the aches attuned
Suffering from gashes not on my skin
My tears for a world that might have been
You jest at scars that never felt a wound













Comments
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Don't fear me... bask in my awesome glory!
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Why couldn't I have been born in the eighteenth century when fat white women were actually in style.
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