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  • Writer's pictureErin

bruises of yellow and green.

I'll never understand how

the clouds turn grey

and roll away.

My clouds stay above

me, drowning me as

I continue with my thoughts.

They darken any

form of light that

touches my skin.

They leave bruises

on my arms as they pull

me away from all the

ones who care.

"It isn't safe,"

they whisper to me

in the wind.

"At least the world

doesn't bruise me,"

I cry to them, rolling up

my sleeves to see their

purple prints.

"Oh, darling. Silly little girl.

They bruise you every day.

It's why we're here:

to save you from the

harmful words of the

people you love.

The ones who bruise your

heart with shades of yellows

and greens.

The ones who beat you slowly

with wavering love

that builds you up

and is taken away,

leaving you stranded in

the middle of nowhere

as you watch yourself

become beaten and blue."

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