Poems
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nothing left

I’ve heard about birds sitting on wires
not sure what that means
maybe some type of metaphor
for all the people who will probably leave
so I stare up as no one notices
that I’m a pessimist
with the face of someone’s unfit lover
and why does everyone think I’m so sweet
when my skin has never warmed with touch
so a shout out to all the loves
who exposed my poor soul for the coward I am
and the one who made me into a heartless being
with only demons longing to protect me,
but I found my worth in how many cuts
I can create by words i can’t say now
don’t you see
the more pain I can tolerate
the more empathy I can taste
so why do people insist it’s so bad to bleed?

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