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by joolie
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1003718
poem and i beg
Cut me down into pieces too small to measure,
so I have nothing to live up to
Push me down, step on me,
Grind my bones with your weight,
So that every joint is shattered
I use to beg for you to stop,
But now I beg for you to do it properly
only then can it end;
I no longer want to mend.
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