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It slips through her fingers

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It slips through her fingers,
The crash deafens.
“BUTTERFINGERS!”
Shut up.
“You really can’t do anything right…”
Pretty much.
Lost moments of peace,
This vortex of disarray…
Do not succumb.
I repeat, do not succumb.
“Get the HELL out. I want nothing to do with you.”
Walk, walk, little baby
Walk with your head up, chin out.
No, ignore the glass.
Walk on it.
Walk over it.
Let those shards clutter
Walk.
“Don’t show me those damn crocodile tears! All you want is attention…”
'They’re not fake…'
Dry your face.
Let that saltiness sting your cheeks.
L’oreal can help you hide that later.
Close your eyes.
Open them.
Close your eyes.
Let them burn.
Walk away.
Head up, chin out.
Walk.
“Where do you think you’re going? Get back here…”
'Stop talking to me.'
Turn.
Match your eyes.
No, don’t wipe them.
Stare through the fog.
Let that mist in your eyes linger.
Smile.
Go ahead, smile.
Your feelings will follow your actions, I promise.
Smile.
Yes.
“You impudent…”
Turn.
Now.
Pick up that purse.
Slip on those shoes.
Walk.
Door’s over there.
Walk.
“Where the f***… GET BACK HERE, YOU B***H!”
'I will not.'
Walk.
It’s your turn.
Throw out your fears.
Closet your terror.
Just leave.
Leave.
“Don’t you dare come back! I’m DONE with you!”
Victory.
Taste it.
You’re done.
Game over.





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