literature

Inner Conflict

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Literature Text

I've got cuts on my arms
and bruises on my hands
and I don't know where from
it's like I've been fighting in my sleep
but I don't know who with
except for myself
I'm the only one there
in the dark
and oncoming cold
I, for one, am welcoming winter
let me hide in the blankets
away from myself
I wish there was someone else in my bed to fight
besides myself though...
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