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chichee
Poems
Aug 2019
Garbage.
On the park swings, He told me:
I would never hit you, not like the others. Trust me.
Trust me.
I only smiled and tipped my head back
But I could tell you where it hurts.
The things we don't say.
What the title says.
Written by
chichee
19/F/Sydney
(19/F/Sydney)
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