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The Killing of Me

September 7, 2001

This slitting of my throat is nothing new,
A little deeper every time
The knife you use is beautiful,
Camouflaged by trickery and deceit,
Flowing words and unseeming lies.
I fall into your murderous trap
Over and over again,
And yet I do not seem to see
The many ways you're killing me.
How long will it last?
How long will you hurt me?

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