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Sep 2017
My arrow drives deeply into his neck and knees by halves

I draw the arrow out drowning him in his own blood

Shifting my aim across the bow

I curve out my knife, look at the wound

clutch it like it's me who's dying

That's the day I stopped believing in hopeless life
Written by
Zoë Green  13/F/Cleveland,TN
(13/F/Cleveland,TN)   
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