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Am I?
To love only me, is it that hard?
To like me, respect me, is it that hard, am I so ugly...?
To use me is easier, to take from me is a piece of cake...
The disgust in your face, the laughter in your throat is mighty.
I feel it.
The point of nothing, death.... makes a stand..
self pity and self hate makes a soul of nothing grow stronger...
poem
by
Jill Laughlin
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