Everytime you judge me for my scars,
for bruises I might not have made
My wounds smile with red irony
Cause they know you were the one that handed me the blade
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Your voice, soaring red has slowly crept
Into my body and mind
Untill it ripped my soul with lashes
and yet again irony smiled, cause I was the one burning to ashes
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YOU ARE READING
Iridescent
Poetry#22 in poetry on 04\12\2k17 #34 in poetry on 03\12\2k17 Words can shake up the world they can make the tiniest cages rattle they are what gives me strength they are what I take to my battle -by Faith_love ...
