Salted Wounds

April 26, 2011
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drip. drip.
my salt-soaked tears stain the paper.
a silent sob escapes my scarred lips.
a fat tear rolls down my cheek.
slowly it slides, tickling the round skin on my face.
nobody sees. well, everyone sees, they just don’t see why.
my whole life is crying, is a voice trying to escape.

drip. drip.
the girl who always talks, never speaks her mind.
a constant battle. does she say what they want to hear?
or does she say what tugs her soul?
nothing. that’s what she says. or doesn’t say…
help her. please.
somebody see.

drip. drip.
i am done.
done with lies, with false hope, and i’m done with smiles.
the fake ones. that aren’t deserved and aren’t meant.
no more. just genuine, if that’s possible.
i need them.

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