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Dear Rye, There are a lot of things swirling inside you Emotions and memories and darkness that You don’t know quite how to process
My childhood ended at six years old.Nothing would ever again feel secure.My very bed was even tainted,Soiled by the skin of a towheaded creatureThe likes of which I’d never seen before.
you were my one healthy habit<br>i looked forward to each day<br>each day i gave you my life<br>you hold my present, past, and future<br> your blood is now the ink in my pen--<br>the life force flowing in me<br>
Memories are like a virus The bad ones stay and plague me Killing me one day at a time They take hold of my soul and drain the life from it I have many bad memories that blind my sight