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ghost scream their regrets at me. they whisper how they died and tell me of their broken hearts and deathly tears. they make suffering a competition they think their broken hearts make them better than me. they only see you if you are a broken doll, if the hurt an regrets pours down your chin like blood. that's why i'm invisible to them. but if i told them about her smile and her throat and the blood in a halo around her head then maybe they wouldn't see me as inferior.
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