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it doesn't have to be

that complicated, you see

billboards proclaiming that

blood-red lips validate you more than

pale ones, that year

my dear

and that he doesn't love you if

he doesn't respond to that note

you sent him that morning

that thrilling declaration of love you thought he was wanting

he doesn't love me anymore,

you say as you look in the mirror and cut yourself again

and again

until the shreds of your skin

combine with your sticky silk and drip together,

such savage beauty.

it doesn't have to be understood

for you to love that you have rage inside you

from something as simple as

someone being silent.

ignore the billboards

and let them bend in the winds that sway,

and declare your pain

in other, destructive, beautiful ways.

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