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United States


February 12, 2019


She hid her scars with her sleeves, quietly hoping the whole time that someone would notice anyway.

She smiled and laughed and danced, and the more she did the more she died inside. 

She kept a box of letters under her bed; none of them had been opened yet.

The more the flowers withered the more fragile they became, but she learned to love their ruined beauty. 

She watched the sun rise from her locked window, and with it her heart flew away.

She tiptoed past the guards and slipped back inside the door; her prison was her freedom. 



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  • February 12, 2019 - 6:35pm (Now Viewing)

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  • Ursa Rover

    Woah.... stunning imagery and use of the unsaid. It's beautifully worded.

    5 months ago
  • Quille

    WOW................ This is gorgeous and so full of emotion! Excellent job :DD

    5 months ago
  • palindrome

    I love this so much! So beautiful...

    5 months ago