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You found me lying on the floor
Holding in my entrails,
Blood pouring out of me like a death-bed confession.
I could tell by your eyes that you thought I deserved it.
You picked me up,
And like a monster you carried me off.
You threw me down on the table
And gathered your needle and thread.
You stitched me up so savagely
It hurt more than the wound.
You violently nursed me back to life,
No tender shadows in your eyes.
I was convinced I would die.
You should see the scars!
But, in the end you did it;
You saved me.
Here I am, alive and well.
Only the scars and the memories linger,
Gathering dust and cobwebs like old ornaments,
Sentimental but worthless.
Holding in my entrails,
Blood pouring out of me like a death-bed confession.
I could tell by your eyes that you thought I deserved it.
You picked me up,
And like a monster you carried me off.
You threw me down on the table
And gathered your needle and thread.
You stitched me up so savagely
It hurt more than the wound.
You violently nursed me back to life,
No tender shadows in your eyes.
I was convinced I would die.
You should see the scars!
But, in the end you did it;
You saved me.
Here I am, alive and well.
Only the scars and the memories linger,
Gathering dust and cobwebs like old ornaments,
Sentimental but worthless.
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