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Sep 2013
It was the cuts on my hands,
that trailed down my wrist.
The cuts singing a song of pain and un-happiness.
It was the cruel careless tone in your words that portrayed and arrayed.
It was you who killed me, and tossed me away.
She's a cold heartless killer.
Tonya Cusick
Written by
Tonya Cusick  23/F/Joplin, mo
(23/F/Joplin, mo)   
677
   Dawn of Lighten, --- and August
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