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Jul 2018
I am a paper-thin vase.
As you raise your voice,
the pressure seeps into my bones,
cracking and twisting until
all that's left is a deformed heap.

I writhe, but I writhe in my heart.
I scream, but I scream from my soul.
You don't see, but I have been possessed,
by the agony of your choleric yelling.

I love you,
but today,
I hate you.
Written by
paul  California
       Jayne E, chris, Traveler, Mila and rose
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