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Paper Cuts & Scars

by Mila Clarke

Screaming over paper cuts
Your tears blind you
From the cause of my hurt.
Reach to touch me
And grate at scabs.
The blood swaddling me
You mistake for wool,
Lying, heartstrings bared
You seem pushed to pull.
What is it you stand to lose?
Your closest kin, your inner truth?
Mirror nods but you donít see,
Frightened of relinquishing
Cartoon plasters or a hobby.

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