There is
a devil raging inside of me,
only she has
a pretty voice.
And can wear pretty clothes.
You know the ones,
those reserved for perfection,
those above you and me.
Believing the lie.
So far from pretty when bones
jut out
from all angles
and small is no longer small enough.
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Poems written by me. Not written in any particular style they simply express how i was feeling at that moment in time.
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