Scratch
- Katie Nicholas
- Jan 7, 2019
- 1 min read
The tip of my fountain pen bent to the blank page
My churning bottomless resentment spurred into new rage
Ink splat like a shot wound, tore through my ribcage
Another arrow to my back - he catapulted another
Lie.
Was I ready for another battle?
Well, I just let out a sigh.

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