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Hello poetry
a home for my aching soul
goodbye cowardice
In many ways, I'm still that little girl
The little girl who was told she was ugly, the little girl who hid from mirrors
The little girl who stayed in packs, for fear of being alone with her mind
The little girl who learned from the reactions of others, not to speak, but to write her madness into rhyme

-s.n
There is no poem I've written that gets more raw than this...

— The End —