I Am a Tree

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I wonder sometimes,

How many pills

or cuts

or bruises

or accidents

or screams

or tears

or scars

or breakdowns

or burns

or harsh words

or panic attacks

or bad days

would it take to prove to you all, I resemble a tree

I appear strong, and beautiful on the outside

People use me to climb and they use me for shade

But when a part of me snaps inside

I am left with nothing, but my rotting years....

I'm no longer strong, nor beautiful

I'm used, and rotting away with the rest of the world

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