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The more I stand here      in this downpour, The more I question if     the water is still flowing, or if it's just my tears Dripping down my frail body, Cascading over each prominent rib, And coursing through each protruding hip bone, highlighting each defect with His gleaming smile      as if He knows something I don't. And I wonder, just how many times the Water will try to slip his slithering hand around my wrist,   Before my essence follows Him down the drain. And I wonder, just how many times   I have to hear how fragile I must be   Before my spirit melts entirely. And I wonder, just how many times   I'll be told how small I am   Before my soul fades into nothingness and I forget I exist as a person,          not just a Skeleton
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
skel-e-ton
The more I stand here      in this downpour, The more I question if     the water is still flowing, or if it's just my tears Dripping down my frail body, Cascading over each prominent rib, And coursing through each protruding hip bone, highlighting each defect with His gleaming smile      as if He knows something I don't. And I wonder, just how many times the Water will try to slip his slithering hand around my wrist,   Before my essence follows Him down the drain. And I wonder, just how many times   I have to hear how fragile I must be   Before my spirit melts entirely. And I wonder, just how many times   I'll be told how small I am   Before my soul fades into nothingness and I forget I exist as a person,          not just a Skeleton
madelyn-grace
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
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