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The chords

October 25, 2014
By Anonymous

A knot twists inside of my chest
He pulls the chords at his whim
I’m his Christmas present on January 1st
Tossed in the corner given glances every now and then
He pulls the chords and I twist
Twist in any which way
He builds me up
He knocks me down; but not with a blow
With dismissal
Rejection of its purest form
He pulls the chords of the knot in my chest
And I wait to see if I twist

© Anonymous

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