After a while it didn't hurt as much, the pain was numbed and then the daggers would fall out, but the scars were something I could never quite get rid of no matter how much I tried. And at the times when I felt my lowest they would resurface with a different kind of pain, hopelessness and worthlessness.
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Toxic
Short Storyshe was flowers and sweet gin, and he was the poison that destroyed them highest ranking: #561 in Short Story current ranking: #561 in Short Story
