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Her eyes wander in utter forlorn Wandering across the ink that adorns her face in blotched stains of red Crying rivers of disgust as her clouds are evident through the fake pigment she hides behind
There she stands On a precipice—the steepest in her mind, Overlooking wrong and right; What is true, what is false; What can help, what can hurt
Funny. Your jokes are funny. “You’re fat. You’re dumb. You’re a waste of space.” Everyone laughs at your comical words. Is it funny that your words made me stop eating?
Whispers and Glares Look back and Run Down the hall to the left
We all have a story that made us who we are, But that doesn’t mean we are stuck. Listening to the torment, Believing all the lies. Hiding in the shadows, Of those judging eyes.