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“Sorry.” One word, her life upon a page. Glinting barbed wire wrapped around thin arms; The suit of armor was also a cage, And words inside her head did much more harm.  
When people ask me why it looks like I play tic-tac-toe on my wrists, I tell 'em it's because that's where I can feel my body insisting Over, and over, and over again, That it's alive.  
I feel so lonely, so incomplete
Peace is not easy.
I fight a fight I know I cant win;
Understand, this is not right.Listen, hear me warn you.This is not a fair fight.You will fail, win, lose.
Broken and drained, I’m vacant inside.The hurt I couldn’t handle overflowed to a knife
Tell me.  If it's all in my head...   Then why is it written all over my body?
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