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Scar garden
Don’t ask me who I am,
because I haven’t the faintest idea.
Don’t ask me what I am,
the only word that comes to mind is wrong.
But most importantly,
do not ask me where I am.
Because I do know the answer.
it is a despicable place.
A dark hearted scar garden
and I’m trapped here with my thoughts
because the gate has got a padlock
that I don’t know the combination to.
And I’m sick of being here because
the trees are toxic, and the fruit is poison,
So I starve here
waiting and walking and thinking
navigating through twisted pathways,
thorn lined trails.
Never daring to rest,
because the animals in the garden are vicious
and I fight with them all day long.
It’s lonely here.
It’s exhausting here.
how is it possible to live in such a place?
It’s not.
out of the possible outcomes
Death or Escape
I do not know which is more likely.
All I know is that I must make a choice.
And I must make it today.
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honestly this isn't my favorite piece, it was rushed and quick and written in frustration, but it's raw and real and sometimes it's ok to forget about technicalities.