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I gave up on tears
Long ago, so I will let
The sky cry for me
My feelings today
Her blood ran deep
So did her cuts.
She loved seeing the blood slowly seep from her wrists
and she covered them up
She broke glass and cut too deep
Her scars are what hold her past-
-Or what's left of it.
She never told anybody
She thought she deserved it.
Now, a year clean, her scars show her
fears
faults
memories
weaknesses.
But she's proud.
Food
Oh! food.
What food?
Oh my!
There's food*

What a food.
compelled 'pon parchment

amid lustful indulgences

of grandiloquent gusto,

neath combustible blood --

   lies the soul of a poet

— The End —