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Apr 2019
You stain my skin
like the indents on my wrist.
The hair-ties from my weary day,
unused and painful.

Luckily, I employ you.
The indents fade and the angry
red marks vanish,
while my vision clears with it.

The crack of my wrist,
hyperextended like my patience,
I bring back feeling to my fingers.
Time to get to work.
Literally meaningless **** Iā€™m so bored
Written by
Ray Dunn  20/F/New York
(20/F/New York)   
305
       Medusa, Vera Anne Wolf and Katelyn
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