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Aug 2015
I was barren
A deserted landscape
Full of papercuts from my house of cards
And a tree with no more leaves
I would watch the earth crack
And pick at the places where the ground split
Until I was isolated
I couldn't move
All I could do was think
A task best done when morale is not so low
I was addicted to feeling pain
Pain that I could measure and prescribe myself
I self medicated with insults and inhalants
Mockery and mutalation
Addicted to my meds is what I became
So addicted to sadness
I never wanted it to leave

But here I am
Clean and cultivating
The fruit that
My new land has produced
And now I feel good
Mind and heart content
I can finally love you
Long title, haven't done one of those in a while.
This is just another poem about some stuffs.

Have a great day everyone :)
WickedHope
Written by
WickedHope  27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell
(27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell)   
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