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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
The closes I could get to my true self. The self that was birthed. The self that got destroyed by the world. She still calls me...

Submitted: August 28, 2017

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Submitted: August 28, 2017



Memories press hard against the inside of my skull The harder I tried to forget, The wilder these images got

I was being haunted by a tainted young version of myself

A little girl with a disturbing loud laugh Big wild curious round eyes And an imagination that surpassed the Earth

Her hands grabbed my wrist so tight, By the marks that remained You would swear I cut myself last night

She stared me into a trance where I saw flowers singing to her In a paradised garden she called home I saw her leave her home, She got lost in the forest

A dark and dirty swamp That’s where she found me, An empty casket body wandering lost - Body

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