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Oct 2018
One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

I see my flaws at the door
You're shaking their hands and letting them in.
I sit so close - skin to skin while you discuss my chopped hair and tarnished skin
Blandly discussing how you want me thin.

Five.

Six.

I blame the mirror for making me like this.
Counting the marks that don't look so beautiful - don't shine or sparkle.
Fighting the tears and biting my lip
I look at you with reassuring eyes.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.


I don't think you ever wanted to be mine.


Ten.
Fay Kim
Written by
Fay Kim  22/F
(22/F)   
1.3k
 
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