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why'd I do it
Why’d I do it?
I did it because of the way the ink bled through the pages
Because the half open door never ceased it’s taunting
Because your shape was no longer imprinted on my bed
Because my skin was crawling with the loss of your touch
Because weeds began to sprout from my fingertips
Because no one was there to stop me
I did it because I could
I didn’t do it.
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