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Sometimes I think about killing myself. Partly because of what you have done to me. 

"I'm too smart for that,” I tell myself,

As if intellect is supposed to stop pain. 

It doesn’t. 

As if I can study your hands off my body. 

Memorize enough flashcards to drown out the screams. 

“Maybe if I just get an A, no one will notice the bruises.”

As if mental capacity erases the physical. 

You made my soul stop fitting in my body.

I am no longer me, I am just a person in a vessel, who is too smart to try and die in order to get a new one because I know it will never work and then you. will. win.

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