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Beaten

Where will you place it
this time
There isn't much space
on my skin that hasn't
been marked by your fury
Eve less room remains on
my heart for another scar
Your eyes are wild with hate
Unprovoked anger spins from
your tongue
My eyes are blank and tearless
They've run themselves dry
I feel unworthy so I stay
Expecting, accepting another blow
Your soul is black
For some unknown reason
Something has hurt you
So hurt me
Hurt hung onto too long manifests
itself into anger
You try to transfer it to me
but it still resides in you
So where will you place
it this time
When my skin has turned
to ash....

              ---Tristan, Summer, 2017

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