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Voodoo Doll
January 22, 2019
It wasn’t until that fatal pin through the heart
that I realized how each needle felt
as they filled your flesh with evidence of harm
Each prick cut deeper than the last
but I never had the blood
to show for it
They were always your wounds
It was only my secondhand suffering
© Crystal F., Marshfield, MA
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This piece came from the idea of dealing with the pain of someone you care about struggling to get by. A lot of my writing is about the same person, so you can find some consistencies in my poems.