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lungs full of papercuts

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there was a time
I swore my skin was thicker
but it was only paper soaked in blood
layers of half healed wounds
soft enough to tear with your teeth
thin enough to rip when touched
sloppily stitched together
always ready to split at the seams

I am a parchment body
ripped from the spine
skinned alive on the page
my veins like ink stains
runnin wild thru every margin
touch me and I crumple
drag the pen and I tear
every mark I ever made
still screamin back at me

hold me up to the sun
and you can see straight thru
you can read everythin
I inked into my skin
every verse I scrawled into my bones
to remind me who I am

but the light doesn’t stop
it rips thru
burns holes into me
smoke risin
edges curlin black
letters collapsin into ash
and all that remains
is the sound of tearin
and red smeared across your hands
proof that even paper can scream

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