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Dec 2017
Watch your step on the way in, there are needles and knives
they'll pierce through your skin.
It may be dark, so hold my hand
and if you can, understand.
Step over my sorrows,
don't mind the shards,
while you're in here please,
disregard.
Your eyes will adjust,
you can see me now,
all the pieces of my heart, I just left around.
Drugs and liquor beside my bed,
but by the end of most nights,
only the thoughts are dead.
I become hesitant as I notice you judge,
"please don't begin to send your pity,
these feelings don't budge."
I suddenly remember why I've never had someone in this room,
for the longest time, it has only been my tomb.
G J
Written by
G J  17/F/Canada
(17/F/Canada)   
  447
   V, Enola Cabrera and TSPoetry
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