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Tuesday, January 19, 2010

"Poem" 34

I am putting my hand on
My back and I feel little
Bumps like acne or something
And when I looked in the
Mirror there was nothing
There. I wish I had perfect
And soft skin. You like soft
Skin. My hands are not even
Able to be soft anymore because
I scratched them up and now
They are all scarred and
Bumpy and scratchy.
Why do you love me
Even though I am so gross?
I want to be perfect for you.
I think I will get
Surgery or something so
You will love me.

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