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"You never finish anything."
Her words pierced my tongue.
I sighed. Hands on hips,
I looked at the broken bulb that flickered at me.
My foot started tapping.
Shifting my weight onto it, bent knee,
I looked sassy.
With the oven steaming, I started backing away.
I didn't like the smell, that's all.
"You're a failure, you know that?"
I knew it. She knew it.
People who met me could see potential,
but my eyes, they screamed disappointment.
I may as well have tattoo'd it on my forehead.
I'd wear it well.
Like Scarlett's letter,
imprinted for everyone to see.
A waste of time, she'd said.
That's all I was to her.
And she was right
England to California
(England to California)
For the Sparrows
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