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Done

Broken.

Just a number in a long line of distractions from your monotonous existence.

Sleeping in separate beds, my ***

Lies.

Hurt.

I should be used to this by now.

Bring on the pain. It's the only relief to be felt.

Art of the skin speaks the beauty of the soul.

Just keep breathing.

The whole thing is one big illusion.

A black magic trick.

Your voodoo.

I'm done.

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Written by
jessica-who
American
Published
Mar 20, 2013
Lines·Words
13·69
Permission

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