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Habit

Broken bones and a bruised face,
He checked the mirror-
The nightmare's back again.
Palms that bled and fingers without nails.
An empty heart and a blank page.
He feeds himself on the frozen salad-
Last year's leftovers, he did not forget.
He could let go of sleep
Or he could sit and bleed.
He chooses to embrace the red
So, within the four walls, he stayed.
Why stay when you can leave?
But all of this has happened before,
Not a curse, it's a habit, he said.

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