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I can spill my guts by only ever spilling ink.Slicing through the paper with a pen,it's the kind of permanancy everyone wishes for.A spontaneous tattoo in the binds of a notebook.
I am the trapped girl. I'm the one she wants to be, but doesn't think she can. I'm the girl of her dreams. I pound on the fleshy walls, manifesting as a headache, But all she does is take a pill and ignore me.
I'm far from okay, But at the sight of a blank page, my fingers are flying across the keys. Turning tears into words, and finding a peace long forgotten, poetry.