Papercut

A sliver of a moment.
Fragmented.
I toyed with the paper as I wait for the thoughts I refuse to acknowledge.
They are as real as you and me.
I wrote with ferocity and anguish.
Stab and pierce with words,
Splashed the sheet with fury and despair.
And still, as I ended it,
It cut through my skin,
Bled it,
Stung it,
Hurt it.

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