Mie Hansson

“I wore you on me at all times
Like I now carry my pen.
Unlike your own opinion my
Belongings must have a function.
You bled through the ink of my lines and
To be my subject nursed your thirst.

Was it my fault, or your own, that you forgot
—I do not deal in tender verse.”


Mie Hansson, Where Pain Thrives
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Where Pain Thrives Where Pain Thrives by Mie Hansson
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