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Dec 2013
She took the pills one gloomy night
In hopes to fulfill her blight.
The stains of her sorrow now coat the floor
A deep red only she could adore.
Pretty pools of dark bliss
Swirl around in a mocking tone,
"One more cut, you'll be all alone."
Not even the thickest bandage could heal
These forsaken thoughts of glory,
For within these wounds there held a story.
{M.M}
Michaela Moffett
Written by
Michaela Moffett  United States
(United States)   
436
 
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