She was the collector of unkept souls,
a keeper of unspoken dreams,
and she would dance under the moonlight on warm summer nights.
Many watched her love the ones who would slice their name of pain into the belly of her soul,
and she would run her fingers over those scars smiling,
as if saying to herself
"It will take more than that to break this spirit."
Pain makes one weep,
Just as the night weeps for the stars in the sky,
It is then one begins to understand how wings were torn from angels as they fell.
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