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May 2018
I am tirelessly tormented by black thoughts that mercilessly mock
shame and scar my broken body.

My worked worn bones bend
as I will my bruised body to rise on shattered limping legs.

I’m forced to lift myself off the cold cruel ground once more.

I climb out the grave that
decided to dig.
While a dark hazed figure tries to bury me alive

I see the cold shaking hands of insecurity shrouded in a dark cloak standing by my side

As we look over the pit I escaped.

I intentionally let a sadistic smile slip. Laughing with an unwavering stare.

I grabbed hisΒ Β old steel shovel
and filled my grave

William de klerk
Written by
William de klerk  18/M/South Africa
(18/M/South Africa)   
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