A hurt slam

More often we do,

Try and flout the palpable.

And put on an armor,

To guard ourselves against the frank fact.

And thus making certain people naive

To how much they hurt us,

Even after them, gist so much to us,

That we pinch out arms and pull our hair,

Praying to make this all a dream,

An ugly, disastrous nightmare.

Finally, all you do is zip your mouth,

Just not to let you be them.

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