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The day in the life of Stella.
Just poetry and what not that comes to me at random intervals of time when I'm sittin' in my good ole' computer chair.
I hate how you apologise for all the wrong you've done.
Telling me I'm beautiful won't make the bruises go away.
Telling me you love me isn't going to make it better.
I don't care if you're sorry.
I don't care if you want to take away the pain.
You took me away from my heaven and created a heaven with a small hidden pocket of hell.
If you wanted me dead last night chances are twelve hours hasn't changed your mind.
You're just sorry because you're afraid.
Afraid I'll stand up for myself.
Afraid I'll shout out late at night.
I feel so weak when this happens.
I can't find my voice.
Tears sting my eyes.
I hate how you do this to me.
I'm being torn up inside and out.
One can only fall down the stairs so many times..
Sometimes I wonder why people are always saying everything happens for a reason.
If that is so true then why is this happening to me?
I don't think I ever deserved a punishment like this..
This is just too much.
Far too extreme.
Far too painful.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever live through it.





 
 
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