it was a rough year for me. expect the next couple to be depressing. i had to write a poem that didn't rhyme.
the chains are gone,
there is a hole where you were,
gaping and mocking,
mocking the girl i am today.
if only i had seen the error of my ways before,
the tangled mess i call my morals,
your heart would be free from pain by my words.
but i blindly led my way through the path
of thorns and poison.
no amount of scratches or blood stopped me –
until they began to reach your skin.
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