WoRdS

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Your words, they hurt

They sting like ten thousand bees

They cut like jagged glass

You spoke them thirteen years ago, you spoke them yesterday

And so I question

The mirror reflects what you've spoken

Because you've spoken it

So be it

I cringe

I double over

Am I so broken?

Am I so flawed?

Yes, most certainly

Fetal position on the floor

The place you will find me

The place you left me

With your words

 (m.g./9-12)

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