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Honest Reflection
June 3, 2013
Scars lace my wrists and hips,
A false smile paints my lips,
Burns ache across my flesh
Who am I but a painful mess?
My lack of tears is my mask
I reek of lies and a hidden past
I’m haunted daily and fear no death
Who am I but a hole of debt?
© Tatyana Z., Norwood, MA
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