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Grab My Hands and Yank Me Back

That no one else is able to see
Was no longer even there
I am anorexia
living hell of an existence

It was only then that I was able to cry
with an intensity bordering on mania
at the vulnerable age of eleven
and left me hung out to dry

It will never be enough
I thought you cared
Cause that's all I feel like I'm good at
and I wasn't taking anymore

A contest entry

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Comments


  • Melodies
    October 16, 2008

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    Well done, good poet! A poem that makes sense and that is amazing considering it was built from spare parts so to speak. I especially like the last line about not taking anymore. It wraps it all up nicely!