Have you written your saddest story, or are you living it now? Do you keep track of days in a diary? Does the ink run like rain, entries full of temptation or pain that upsets the balance of this so-called life? When you reread the words, can you recall emotions that cut like a knife through the bullshit and bafflegab you have continually endured. Does it still hurt? Does it settle on the page in the form of a poem, will it forever remain a secret never to be known to those who inspired feelings you simply cannot forget? Can you wear the scars with pride, or will you always regret?
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