Scarring Words

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Like a knife

Your words cut me deep

Penetrating my skin

While I sleep

Scarring tissue

Leaving marks

That only disappear

In the dark

I cover them in cloth

And hide away my shame

He tells me every morning

I'm no longer a pretty dame

If I was pretty

If I was smart

Would you still hide me

Behind this art?

You paint on my face

A brush in your hand

You tell me that no-one

Would understand

The marks you leave

You say it's your care

That I should be happy

You said, "life isn't fair"

So behind this paint

Is where I hide

Waiting for you

To see my side

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