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Jan 2016
Broken and torn
Only a stiched-up rag doll
Remains in her place.
And she rembered trying
So hard not to cry
While sitting on that
Church pew,
And she rembered trying
To ease the pain
When the blade cut
Into her worn-out wrist.
She would punish herself
For being so blind
And letting herself get hurt.
The first time she saw him again
Was on the sidewalk.
It tore her appart inside,
Every inch of flesh
Peeled off her brittle bones
And was thrown to the floor.
And she rermbered trying
Not to mess up the braiding
Of the noose she began
To weave right after he left.
And she rembered trying
To throw that noose away,
Only to dig it out of the trash again.
And she still loves him,
No matter how much it hurts.
He is now oblivious to her existance
So why wold he care about
The girl inside her he killed?
The corpse she carries,
The one that holds her hand
And beggs her not to hold
Anyone elses hand again.
At night sometimes thay dance,
She and her dead friend
To the music that will play
In the rotting corpses head.
She throws herself into that movement,
The fluid furry of flying limbs.
Dancing and dancing like mad
Untill she rembers him again.
Shinnu John
Written by
Shinnu John
348
 
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