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Jul 2019
I poke the snakes who
call themselves dragons,
each time they bite back bitterly
and a bit of their poison seeps into my veins.
My mama always told me
that I was too soft for a world like this,
but now she’s the one
locked away unable to cope.
I may appear unwell and
you may believe me to be broken
but I promise my fingers will break
before I ever stop holding my pieces together
and my lungs will burst
sooner than I cease to breathe fire.
Believe me.
Written by
soft  24/F
(24/F)   
161
       ---, Rogues Gallery, Dathan and ---
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