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Shovel
“I have the right, to leave. I hold enough dignity inside of these tired worn out hands, to claw my way up and out of this. I have stored away enough hope in this bruised and battered soul, to know that my story cannot end like this. There are far more chapters inside of this book. You read me like a fairytale, hoping that I would be your perfect ending; thinking that somehow you would find your completion, in another human being. I presented myself, a human storm. And you presented yourself kind; a lie at best. But everything changed, once you held my fate in your hands. You shattered my heart, and you laid my soul to rest. You’ve been married to a corpse, for nearly fifteen years. You took what was left of my empty spaces, and you filled them all up, with doubt and with fear. These silent tears I’ve learned to cry; here in the dark, laying on my side. MY side. That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it? There’s been YOUR side, and there’s been MINE. And nothing powerful enough between us, for our hearts to cross that divide. I used to look at you and beg you to stay, as the sadness would take over me. But I look at you now, and all I feel is anger, because it’s never been about loving you; it’s been about not loving me. You see, I have to own my part in t

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