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Jul 2018
The skin I wear does not feel the same,
Yet your touch still lingers, still stays.
I want to claw my skin out until it bleeds.
Maybe then, you would finally leave.
I wonder how a snake does it, to willingly shed a part of itself and live.
tragedies
Written by
tragedies
  496
     Fawn, Anne, zak of all trades and Ceilidh Quinn
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