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but hell was just a floor below in the living room There was a blazing fire in the fireplace and there were plenty of screams coming from mother and father They argued again And from upstairs, locked in her dim room, she knew that the gnashing of teeth and the shattering of glass would not be late in echoing through the walls They always liked to break glasses and bottles in the fireplace while arguing The fireplace was full of sparkling shards now She still remembered the afternoon her little cousin came to visit with aunt and uncle and not knowing any better he tried to pick the sparkling treasure from the cold ashes of the fireplace and cut himself pretty bad But who knows, perhaps there really was a treasure in that fireplace Whenever mom and dad left the house she would stand before the cold fireplace and watch the sparkling ashes like a starry night sky and would start daydreaming It worked for a while but then she just had to reach higher She had to reach to the stars and remove the biggest she could find and slice her wrists or ankles with it The sight of her own blood emerging from the shallow cut calmed her down a great deal And when mother and father were in the house, arguing as usual and breaking stuff she had her scabs to scratch and peel off and chew on That also provided her with a great sense of calm But unfortunately mother and father hadn’t been out in a long while They’d have to get out soon because their dearest daughter had started plucking her hair already and that could turn into a problem. She could end up looking less pretty than she was with only the cuts and scabs

Reality in some places…but, oh dear!
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( ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥) yeah…
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“Wonderful!” These poems always make me say an exclamation that is unacceptable ti some circles. I don’t know how you do it.
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༼つ ◕_◕ ༽つ Big thank you, my friend!
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