It's hard to speak Ill of you
But, I'm broken.I'm broken
And pain is doing me apart
To say words that hurts me more.
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Dead Letters
PoetryWe are Afraid. The supposed Ones with bravery of hearts are weakened because of affection. Now we lay low on succulent beds and Undercovers. These are my honest Dead Letters.
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It's hard to speak Ill of you
But, I'm broken.I'm broken
And pain is doing me apart
To say words that hurts me more.