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The Story of Tears

Grief is laying claim to its resting place--twisting and turning me out of my skin.

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I do not know the woman I see in the mirror. She can no longer survive everything.

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She begs me to notice her, too--to know that her heart can't take another breaking.

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I'm listening... I hear her. I'm listening… I feel her.

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Here we go again.

May 13
at
11:17 PM
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