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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Tragedy · #1291266
A poem about a suicide. Before you ask, no I'm not suidicial myself.
Wrists, sides, thighs,
all piled beneath thousands of lies.

Scarves, jeans, baggy clothes,
Nobody know.

Blood, pain, tears,
a little girls worst fears.

Death, finally, done,
no one could save that one.
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