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K
Poems
Jan 2018
hara-kiri
It wasn't a slit through my wrist,
not a gunshot on my mouth,
not a rope wrapped around my neck,
it was not an overdose.
It was the thoughts running through my head,
the words that cannot escape,
the anxiety, the pain, the hatred
it was over.
I'm sorry.
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kahel
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Glassmuncher
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