May 14, 2009
By , Lynden, WA
Your words cut like a double edge sword,
Spiraling toward
Your words constrict though they seem harmless
But they leave a mess
Of me.
Your words cut off the air
And it’s as if you don’t care
About me.
Your words, a swirling fog
Tend to bog
Me down.
When will you get rid of the lies?
The ones that make me cry
And scar me?

What will you chose?

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