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Hate

If I gather shattered mirrors

Scattered about decrepit buildings,

Can I carve the toxic traits out of me?

How much flesh until I’m thin?

How much tongue until I shut up?

How much ****** heart until I’m loved?

 

Isn’t it sick?

 

How every time I see my

Reflection in those shards,

All I see is blood?

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Written by
miranda-santoro
25 / F / American
Published
Nov 14, 2019
Lines·Words
10·56
Tags
#hate#sad#depression
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