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I Express Myself Through Writing

Silent and humble.
Pain wrapping around my sick heart like scar tissue.
I know I was never anything to him at all.
Yet I gave all I knew to.
All I ever learned was to be a wound
But for him I blossomed.
Somehow.
Why?
I see him now and my heart still stops dead.
Silent I stay.
I will not say anymore.
beastmaster · 46-50, M

 
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