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Jan 2011
Yellow colored words, innocent white smile, disguise the black and red behind.
How dare I do this to me?
I breathe heavily,
weighing the importance of everyday I spend living.
How dare I feel this way?
How dare I live as though I am drunk on sin?
I am everything I never wanted to be.
My white intent is blood drenched,
I slit myself on my purpose.
Now I ask for help,
the only way I know.
I look inside myself,
and reach for my hope.
Now there’s
…nothing.
Shasta Lee
Written by
Shasta Lee
443
   Weeping willow
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