who i was

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even when time moves backward,
i'll still be here.
waiting for something to happen.
even when i turn to bone, engraved into my skeleton,
it will be my story, my plea

until then, I'll bleed letters from the wounds,
that reside on my body.
suddenly appearing as i was waiting.

a single drop of blood creates my art,
my life.
my amalgamation into something beautiful

a picture is worth a thousand words but,
a life is worth a billion more.
even as if comes to an end.
there won't be enough letters in the alphabet,
words in the dictionary to make up who i am,
who i was.

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