I cut your image out of my mind today. The scissors worked furiously, around each carefully painted memory that hung in the cob webbed corners of my imagination. Each illusion of you I had created, I snipped at. Each laugh, each smile that was tucked away inside did not go untouched by the sharp points I attacked them with. I screamed with pain, as the scissors gracefully sculpted an image of you I could crumple in my hands and tear into a thousand pieces .....laying on the ground beneath me, scraps. Maybe the wind will carry them away, maybe they will disappear someday...
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