Shards of fog.
We were used as pawns...not able to make our own decisions, and we were trapped in it.
Lacerations of thought.
Our Memories cut us...but do we use them as weapons?
Can't learn to feel, can only learn to cut ourselves to survive...
Once we cut, the scars come, and we learn to see past the pain.
But only then can we see.
Never before. Only after.
Our friends stab us in the back, only as enemies. And no one sees what we feel.
No one understands like we do.
Only because no one understands us.
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