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Literature Text
Don't ever tell me
I was quick to run
Don't ever say
I should have stayed
Somewhere that turned love
Into a farce of hate and pain
I always gave
What I could give
Longer than I
Could really give it
And no one's arms
Were waiting
To catch me
When I lost it
The wounds were always mine
To claim
Judge me
And you shall be judged
I was quick to run
Don't ever say
I should have stayed
Somewhere that turned love
Into a farce of hate and pain
I always gave
What I could give
Longer than I
Could really give it
And no one's arms
Were waiting
To catch me
When I lost it
The wounds were always mine
To claim
Judge me
And you shall be judged
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Against the still common tactic that women should be caring, and deserve the suffering they get, and should be shamed if they refuse to put up with it.
© 2015 - 2024 squibblyquill
Comments3
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I envision this as part of (perhaps the ending to) a quiet monologue to someone's lover.