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Jan 11
our bodies are made of glass,
so fragile that when you dropped me,
i shattered.
and the pieces were left behind,
to remind me of all the things i did,
that made the blood splatter.
everyday,
i take a shard you left behind,
and crease it across my skin
i bleed out,
but don’t cry,
because i won’t let you win.
kar
Written by
kar  toronto
(toronto)   
292
 
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