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Seeing you
makes me
miss you
more.
A cyclical poem, one of my all-time favourites.
It controls her
She can't stop it
It's a constant battle
She can't drop it

It has become a habit
She can't quit
It's taking over her body
Bit by bit

The scars fade
But the memories don't
She wants them to leave
But they refuse.. They won't

It's an on going battle.
It's a fight she never wins
It's a constant struggle
It's a war that never ends

It's her sweet escape
It gets her lost in her own place
She gets to control the pain
As her adrenaline starts to race

She grabs it off the dresser
As a tear falls from her cheek
She presses even harder
Reminding herself not to shriek

No one understands
No one ever will
This habit now controls her
As the world around her stands still

But now the room is spinning
Her head is getting light
She falls back in her bed
Refusing to put up a fight

She takes one last breath as she turns out the lights
Then she closes her eyes as she calls it a night
No one ever understands my scars
This morning
Was a metaphor to my current way of life
For the first time in years
I woke up early enough to watch the sunrise
And I almost missed it
Because I had to take a ****
This is my only and first ever poem
that I did scribe upon my phone.

A pal of mine does it, does it with ease.
She makes it look easy, just like a breeze.

But it's harder for me, with my thumbs of ham.
I prefer full-sized keyboards, as that's who I am.

Typing and retyping and then wrestling the spellchecker.
If I tried this while in my car, I would surely need a wrecker!

Squinting, so that I don't have to strain my eyes.
To say that I'm enjoying this, would be nothing less than lies.

Well there you have it, I'm finally done.
I'm gonna pass on this foolishness ... and let her have all the fun.
NEVER again.
I'll write it in Sharpie on my arm first!
I've always >hated< texting.
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