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Thursday, June 7, 2012

Not So Sweet Seventeen.

Projected to the world,
A miracle to behold.
A child to hold so dear,
That now you treat so queer.

Thinking you were open,
Then how am I so broken?
"I" chose the route of sorrow,
You might not see me here tomorrow.

Cranberry juice and innocence,
Shouldn't say words like "heck"
Those Marks I got from falling?
Now hickey's on my neck.

I've retained those Marks,
No longer on my knee
I did them to myself
But hid them so no one could see.

I've changed in many ways
You recognize me no more
At 8am, I'm still drunk
And stumble through the door

I go straight to my room
After doing what I shouldn't,
It feels so bad, and yet so good,
Even for her, stopping? I just couldn't.

I just thought I'd tell you this although you probably won't listen.
I begin to forget everyone when the red begins to glisten.
Aoife Semple
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