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I could have been many things

A nun, a ballerina, a prized baker

But boys became attractive, my body not the type

My first batch of brownies hard as a rock

I could have been an alcoholic

I drank so much when leaves were green

I lost the taste and hated waking up

With a hangover and burning spleen

I could have remained a victim

Of a man who loathed my every fiber

But I stuck it to him, left for good

He is now no longer my keeper

I could have hidden within myself

Not getting the help I needed

Choosing to battle my demons alone

Instead of grabbing offered hands

I could have kept running instead of stopping

To finally try and catch my breath

Some may think that torture is brave

But to me, it’s just a quicker death

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