a poem by Anita Smith

She puts on the red dress

To remind herself of the anguish.

She wears it daily.

Even sleeping in it,

In order to dream about the agony

And dysfunction

That surrounds her.

It reminds of the bloody mess she is

And the broken bodies of past lovers

That disposed of her soul

As if she never mattered.

She wanted to live in the pain

So that she would not make that mistake once again.

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