'trauma'

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dear God, with a capital G, is their any way i can say this simply? how do i tell mom that i don't know what's wrong with me? that my brain steals locks hides memories
Sunshine gleams and warms my scar covered arms, and my scar covered insides.   The soothing warm breeze leaves gentle kisses on my broken body, and my broken heart.  
I used to have my very own polaroid camera It was pale yellow, My favorite colour at the time I loved it. When I first got it, It came everywhere with me School, bike rides, parties Everywhere
Back and forth I rock Don't want to be crazy  Like in the movies But I can't stop it Back and forth They shout Insults Pain Rage Back and forth They go In love
Panic is a bathroom sink, Grime-covered and overflowing, Tearing the skin off my hands With its vicious heat splashing, Burning cold through spilled ink.  
For lack of better words     You instill and distill my love      Like alcohol in a glass. Bitter and dangerous, But still on these streets. You use me like a drunk And I’ve got no choice.
I am at war with my borders, constantly pushing the limits and disregarding any resistance. White flag waving with good intentions, though I know this is hostile territory.
never censor the dirty words. unleash the violet memories of your violent childhood: lilac frocks and pomegranite seeds and leftover boo-boos because sometimes  daddy couldn't see you
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