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Blowing Knives
my nerves
break down in
a myryad little
stars
and my mind
is destroyed once
again by the pain
you can blow here into
my eyes
as I watch myself
turn numb and bitter
to your satisfaction
As if I was your favourite
torture toy. As if I was
the girl with no value
you could throw on the bed
for as many times you liked
Just because you feel better,
this way
with my eyes full of tears and my heart confused
what have i ever done wrong to deserve this?
poem
by
Erika Conti
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