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2 sides to every story

I have several tiny cuts and scars
I’m sick of you
I say it in the mirror
Don’t spit words back at me
About how your ugly and unworthy of love
Stop feeling sorry for yourself
I can’t handle your threats
I’m going to cut again
But I’m sick of my scars
Don’t make me punch myself
I’m sick of the bruises
With every bruise and every scar
Every cut and every lonely night
You keep talking to yourself
I don’t think il miss you when your gone
Your only beautiful to me when you aren’t drinking
But when you do you come to me
spit words in your face
looking into my own reflection
Like I don’t already see
What you’ve been doing to the other version of me

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2 Comments

  1. I can see the angle that you’re going for. Another interesting concept here. I’m truly looking forward to reading more from you!

  2. You really got your point across, here.
    I saw the outcome halfway through, but I was already fully drawn in.

    Nicely penned.

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