Scars from the past slowly fade,
Festered wounds heal.
The pain gradually eased,
Yet parts still seem incurably diseased.
Black and pure hatred of me,
Knaws at my mind and soul.
Leaving me longing,
To amputate the gangrenous areas.
Though impossible as that is,
I’m left searching for a cure.
Or to even understand,
What and where this disease lies.
Moments few and far between
Allow the unchanged me to surface.
Disguised by a person I barely know.
Such parts apparently one.
Baffled as to how or why.
Incapable of comprehending, another loving me,
let alone myself.
When not even my parents
Were able to do such things.
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