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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2250985
Short poem about how I wear my scars.
I sat with my anger for a time.
Trying to truly understand her.
Completely awed by her elegance.
Yet her silence, it was pure torture.
When she finally explained herself,
I saw why it was anger she wore.
For it had covered all of her wounds,
& kept her from receiving more.

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