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Anna Jul 2013
"why do you have so many cuts?"
i throw things.
i clutch my chest.
because nothing ever matches this,
nothing ever does!
Anna Jul 2013
I still know
Exactly who you are
And just who
You were.
Anna Jul 2013
I put out
Cigarettes on my fingertips
To 'pass the torch'
And echo the way that smoke drifts
With every letter
That finds reality
Between my blistered thumbs
And cellphone keys.
Anna Jul 2013
I'd be gay,
Too
If i had to take
(pictures of)
your ****.
He apologized for his phone being 'gay'.
Anna Jul 2013
Spin me stories
like leaves
that I can kiss and pull off
of trees
that flourish
or are withering
because both fruits have
so much value
to me.
Anna Jul 2013
I went to therapy
Drunk as ****
and thanked God for
All his blessings.
All my scars sitting softly on my wrists,
The silver still kissing my paled hips,
The welts on my legs,
The blistered words that
spin circles on my lips.
I just left confused.
If God's still out there-
he let me be used.
I dont know how I feel,
but alone in death or not-
someone let me be
So ******* abused.
Anna Jul 2013
It takes a buzz
for me to be happy
For the feel of any feeling
besides misery and pain
and the carpet
and a little girls shame.
As sad as it is-
these aching old memories
are still a bleeding stain.
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