The times where contention cut, leaking from the very women whom you share blood with. Its a misfortune, how a needed embrace doesn't comfort the heart. A bond within a womb that ties the soul with its mother, how infortune i can't grasp.
I fear, I fear unveiling the truth to a mother; thus i crawl in my arms. Where a sharp blade digs, waiting for the tainted metal to leak... once.. again...
A blurred memory with only tears warming the body.
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