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Oct 20
My brain has been torn apart
Crumpled together
And smeared across the billboards of my timeline
My heart shredded and trampled on
My body has seen torments and tortures
That parents fear and
Don’t understand the possibility.
I was told it was my fault.
Every action had its cause.
Every act of terror had its reason.
Me.

But it was never my fault.

I wasn’t the reason I hated this thigh,
Or this skin
Or these bones.
Or this brain
This way of thinking.

Nothing was ever wrong with me.
mads
Written by
mads  Melbourne
(Melbourne)   
44
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