stains

inkstains

of the words

that never

made sense

but i write it

down anyway

.

tearstains

from the music

i never believed

in, but felt with

every heartstring

that snapped

.

bloodstains

from the razors

i grasped with

conviction, but

left smudges of

trembling fingers

.

stains

from different stories;

chapters of the tales i’ll

never confess out loud

dark taint in pages pure

damaged paper that has

been through a lot, from

a damaged person that has

been through a lot more.

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