Sunday, March 11, 2012

Mutilated

Upheaval. Inside is agony.
Twisting, squeezing.

What is breathing?

Pain like a sword through my heart.

A burst that wells through my entire being.
Eyes can no longer hold back what's crying.

Inside, beside.

I can't identify.
What is hurting?

I wonder if anyone will ever hold my hand.

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the truth about freedom

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