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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#371771voted by our readers
By Anonymous
Last night, I picked my skin until it looked like chipped paint on a wall, peeled and peeled and peeled like my foot was an orange. I had to look at the inside of myself,...
Last night, I picked my skin until it looked like chipped paint on a wall, peeled and peeled and peeled like my foot was an orange. I had to look at the inside of myself,...