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In My Respite…

From the moment my eyes were opened to this sick world, I knew nothing good would become of me. The brat who won’t make it anywhere—not in medicine, the arts, law… much less world domination. My ears are bleeding from all their whispers of disdain; so do my wrists.

There I taste the sweetest refuge. And in her, the sweetest revenge. I shall take flight… soon.

66 words

February 6, 2006 by ia

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