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"Try, try, try," she said, "To keep your spirits up!" These words a mother's wisdom as I stand and walk through the swinging double doors into a white and sterile world. I will not be the guilty one. I will not feel shame for this unwelcome event. It is not my choice and not my fate to be remembered as a killer of cells. I hold my head high because I am good singular, but as two I would be something wrong, bad, unnatural. This is not a choice; this is a fight to retain myself. I should never have invited him into me. Now the price to pay, The clothes I shed and don. The gloves she wears, The pain and light and I am broken and I am one again. Smiles unfounded and my mother collecting me and taking me home. I am not a monster, and I am not a killer of cells. This day is not to be remembered and so I sleep and forget what has passed. It is not a truth and we shall not die together. It is vulgar and I should have never Invited him into me. |
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