the voices
rape the silence
in my head
scarring, bleeding
not to die
but to remain
alive, drowning in
agony, the ugly
and bitter memory of
my youth
taken away, my hands
are empty and
i am surrounded
by a void.
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and the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
i should have been a pair of ragged claws.
i hope the exit is joyful and i hope never to return.
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