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Buried Words
Poems
Nov 2019
Tuesday 5 November
I’m hurting.
I’m hurting so **** much.
I wake up and think, “why didn’t I die in my sleep”.
God, just let me die.
Please just let me die.
Everything I do,
Is harm,
***, Drugs,
Everything else,
Just to numb the pain.
That’s screaming instead.
I know this isint a poem but I have no one or no where to put my feelings.
Written by
Buried Words
18/F/Ireland
(18/F/Ireland)
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and
Bogdan Dragos
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