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Rosaline Moray
Poems
Jan 2014
Love
To say that I am
Broken
Would imply that there is
Something left
To fix.
And pain is nothing really.
Nobody feels it except for you.
Therefore it can't possibly exist
Right?
I'm so confused.
There's a gun to my head
And it leaves kiss-shaped indents
And I'm bruised black and blue.
In a coma.
Or something like that.
Written by
Rosaline Moray
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