'Abuse' 'pain' 'depression' 'sadness' 'words' 'hurt' loss

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Pain to be documented for the sake of civilization. Pain, language of the unspoken, censored, plugged and precluded. Pain of mothers daughters and lovers, of sons, fathers and admirers.
Woah to me, the weary traveller, Lost at sea inside my head, Drinking down the endless brew Of all the brine and things you said.   I am a sopping sort of sailor Drowning in the loss of you
To care for their children, my big brother and me, My parents would willingly part a raging sea, The modern-day Byzantine icons, living, breathing saints, A slash to my youth, their troubled life taints.  
There’s a phrase I heard when I was young I heard it whispered off a tongue  I don’t quite know where it came from  But it touched my soul when I was young The phrase was short but sugar sweet
this letter is me saying goodbye. this letter is everything i couldn't say when you were in my room that night when i asked you to stop to leave me alone and you persisted in touching me
Hurt within, Never spoke, Didn't tell me, What it desired,   Tiredness and pain, Growing up with this, Never realising, Life isn't just like this.   
Call the men and arm the guns,  For a revolution has just begun. A secession has taken place, Yet it is in the spot behind my face.  
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