The Dote

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I dislike writing summaries, because I, myself don"t read them, and if you wish to read this twisted poem that is your fault.

Submitted: June 01, 2016

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Submitted: May 12, 2016

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Drip, drop, down the drain wash away the pain...

Hot, warm, red, liquid running down my legs; pain pumping it's vimon throughout my body.

Am I going to die? I don't understand! Why has the split between my leg's betrayed me by giving my presses blood away to the shouwer drain?

I feel so different...

I feel as if i'll never rid of this demon that has found it's new home in side my stomach, and is now trying to claw it's way out.

my mothers hears my cries of pain and beat down the bathroom door.

"momma I'm dying, I'm sorry, I love you." I cry out as she turns the shower off.

 I hear her laugh and see her smile...

Does my mother wish to see my very death?


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