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Sep 2015
Carve it into my forearm as if my arm is a piece of clay easily molded. Brand myself with the word that holds all of my insecurities. Let my skin burn and cry as my soul has for falling shy.
Will I ever be...?
Have I ever been...?
Am I good...?
I want to be...
ENOUGH
Ninny's Narnia
Written by
Ninny's Narnia
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