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Swept Away
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Hating Him You’ve made it a habit to
brush me off at the first
whiff of unpleasant dialogue.
You constantly tell me to relax
In that condescending tone
Like I don’t have every right
To be mad at you when you
Treat me like filthy rags, not
Befitting your spotless image.
To you, I am just a notch above
Nothing, as you find it necessary
To make me smaller than I feel.
