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Apr 2019
Don’t tell me it gets better
until you’ve walked in my shoes.

Not until you’ve held that razor or those pills.
Until you’ve written that note.

Not until everything you have
                          Has just
                                       Fallen
                                                 Apart
                                                And all that’s left is that razor,
                                                        those pills, and that note.
Not until you don’t have any sanity left,
when there’s not an ounce of confidence,
love, or desire in your whole body.
This is also published on Power Poetry.
Written by
Melanie
304
   Fawn
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