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Feb 17
It might be said:

I love the hate
Of haste,
Of viscous cruelty,
Of bitter-sweet taste.

I have lived on,
And cannot seem to recover
The judicious need to bother,
To despise,
Yet to interact,
With the person merely responsible for their horrendous act...

My devastation, depression, detention,
From the life I once considered my own, developing legion,
Of friends who hated,
Of enemies who loved...
As the retrieval of a memory you couldn’t remember with cohesion.
They’re all going. Every last one of them.
Written by
danna22081  F/Tripoli, Lebanon
(F/Tripoli, Lebanon)   
     Em MacKenzie and Fawn
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