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Scar Tissue This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By bahannahpeel, bloomington, IL

I don't need him
I don't need his compliments
to float through the telephone wire
and slither in my ear
Because once he's gone
they'll fester
turn ugly and backwards

I don't need his kisses
leaving trails from my
lips to my neck.
Bread crumbs that will lead me
to him
after he's left.

I don't need the butterflies
in my stomach
whenever I think of him.
When he changes his mind
they'll turn to bees
and sting me
so I can't hardly breathe from the
pain and swelling.
They'll fly up
to my heart
puncture it.

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