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Fist Of Glass
04/01/2005 @ 6:02pm
By:
sweetantaken23

I sit in front of the mirror,
Looking at the reflection,
My face is painted of his features,
Tears come to my attention,
Rolling down mascara water,
All I am is a one parent daughter,
I said by to daddy,
Doesnt matter though,
The moneys the only thing making him remember me,
Back into the mirror I stare at the glow,
Of my greasy skin,
That covers my body,
Since I was born Ive been covered in,
Shivers running inside of me,
As I stare in my puke green eyes,
I just want to rip this face off and replace it,
Letting out a long unsteady sigh,
My pale skin shows on my arms scars from slits,
Its driving me crazy,
Anger plunges my fist into the me I hate,
Finally I cant see me,
But I stare down at my fist of glass,
I roll my wrist as blood runs into my palm,
My eyes roll to the back of my head as I pass,
Finally Ive reached the state of calm,
I dont any longer have to pretend,
To be something that I'm not,
And finally I never have to see my face again.

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