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Why must I see myself this way?
An infection waiting to spread
The rope of sanity is frayed.
Not a day goes by that I'm not filled with dread.

It is not the surface pain
It's what's underneath my skin
That I hope will be washed with acid rain.
I hold myself shut with a silver safety pin.

I keep parts hidden from public view
To keep from being exposed in light
To keep from being hurt by you
I will never choose to fight.

I can run forever if I choose
Deep into my mind
And watch the healing bruise
And craft a lie to hide behind.

Knowing that you know the truth
Does nothing to soothe
Whatever is left of me.

Picking up the shattered piece
Puzzling how it goes
Figuring out how to put me
Together so that no one can know...

That I'm the infection.

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