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Feb 2017
the cracks line the sides of my body
my hands shake wearily
the bruises grow with every step I take
i lock the door behind me
and watch my insides pour out in front of me
my eyes are bloodshot
tears lining the rim

I try not to cough too loudly
I try not to gag too much
I try not to take too long

the fear of my secret being known
kills me more than the disease itself
too bad I'm already dead
eliza bonnet
Written by
eliza bonnet
597
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