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septemb3r
Poems
Nov 2013
She Was Yesterday
You throw yourself
Down the stairs
In your best dress;
You hold your own hair back
When you throw up.
You wish for razors on your wrist
Rather then my fingernails
Trailing down your back.
She was my yesterday,
And she is my everyday.
Written by
septemb3r
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Brent Fisher
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