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Madeleine Aug 2019
To finally shut a door
Lock it
And giving You the key
To never return
Has been such a peaceful feeling
Clindballe Sep 2014
Grew up shaking hands with the iron.

Making a thousand diamonds shine on the floor.

Screaming over the voices inside.

Bruises and marks behind locked doors.

A game of play and pretend had begun.

Teddybears and sharp knives do not match.
Written: September 8. - 2014

— The End —