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#feministwriter
my body is a tragedy lined with fragmented artefacts of a wartorn state highlighted by shades of red and lines of grey sadness there is nothing like the pity in the eyes of those trusted to provide aid it sings a woeful song of healing and love until you are okay to walk again you become a symbol of their service to society and they move on to lands more beautiful and planes much less devasted you are left in the shadows still broken but warmer than before warmer despite the poison you have been doused in called care
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Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 8:23 AM UTC
Enemy Lines