Myself

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Bodies are covers for the truth that peeks out beneath flesh. I'm full of weeds and insects, which are waiting to slither out between my teeth. With every word spoken, I choke on dirt. You were never mine to hold onto and you cut the rope in half, leaving me to crawl out of my own grave. I am a walking skeleton; spilling out my guts. I have two holes for eyes. No one notices.

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