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She was thinking again  the stitches  and weeping it terrified her the blood gushing out torn skin the flavor of pain  Now gone Power is stitched Into the fabric of her soul  She is proud  She is glad her scars are on display  She knows victory Her smile is here to stay She says what is the point of keeping all the pain on the inside? That "she" is me. Your turn. Tell me your story stitch by stitch. 

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