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Deep Cuts

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Her beautiful golden eyes grow dark, hard, and cold as tears roll down her cheeks.

“Get. Out.” she points at the door.

“Carnelia I…” She shakes her head. She has no interest in hearing anything I have to say. 

“I never want to see you again,” her arm is unsteady and her whole body begins to shake. “I don’t care what face you are wearing,” her voice is still weak, strained from her illness. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Each of those words feels like I am

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