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Mar 2013
My skeletons hang on rusted hangers
Their deteriorated bones rattle my walls
They whisper the secrets of my pervious dangers
As they snicker and snare and gnaw on my soul

The smell of abandonment seeps between their bones
Betrayal reeks in their marrow that is now turned to petrified stone

They thrive off making new friends,
adding to my collection of my former afflictions of misfortune
Margaret Mary
Written by
Margaret Mary
613
 
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