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Jan 2015
The return policy for my heart has expired.
Sold at a cheap price, a sale bin bargain.
I got tricked at my own back door.
Pushed off a truck again.

Bartered over the table, no receipt.
Complacent defeat, or constant torture
It's not even my choice if I function anymore.

Yes, Ma'am. you can do whatever you wan't.
You own me, your toy, you own all of this.
You bought me with a mere kiss.

Slump down motionless.
You can do whatever you want with me.
But you don't want anything.

I have no real meaning.
Like an unwanted doll,
opened Christmas morning.
You cut me open and ripped out my stuffing.
Kevin Eli
Written by
Kevin Eli  California
     Weeping willow and Kevin Eli
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