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Oct 2017
You called her beautiful, but that’s not what she was.

She was fire and flood. her words pounded against the sand like waves.

Her hands created art from pain, each stroke a painful stitch.

Her thoughts were flames from a wildfire, taking the world by smoke and ash.

She was not beautiful, and anyone who called her that felt her wrath.
To be edited :)
Written by
bess  18/F
         Nasira, ---, Taylor Kennerly, Inkveined, Carly and 16 others
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