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 May 2015 autumn ann melton
rain
I wonder how a homeless feels.
Does he belong everywhere?
or nowhere at all?
 May 2015 autumn ann melton
rain
Such sweet thing is this solitude,
you just want to keep sinking...
tenderly, tragically!
Blood drips from the blade just as it does from the wrist.
Splatters as it hits the floor.
The tears stain the face.
The blade is the words hurting her heart.
The blood is the laughs that surround her at school.
The tears are the bruises from home.
Her wrist is her final goodbye.
Copyright © 2015 Camron Elliott
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