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  Mar 2020 imperfectstranger
N
The only motherly thing I knew
was the coldness of my blade;
gently washing away the
sadness of my burdened heart
She never made me feel loved only afraid and unsafe.
  Mar 2020 imperfectstranger
N
I can’t tell if I’m awake,
or not done dreaming

All I ask is, when will I awake
from this never-ending nightmare?

Perhaps death is
my only awakening
  Mar 2020 imperfectstranger
N
My lips are worn out
from the unspoken words

My eyes dully ache
from the unshed tears

My heart burns for
its desire to be loved

My wrist bleeds,
it longs to heal

My leg shakes,
it wants flee

My soul weeps,
so I set it free
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