She felt the tears spill down her cheeks,
They prickled as they fell,
But also they helped quell the flames
Within her private hell.
There was no way out of her hell,
All roads lead right back in.
At least she liked the flame scorched tan
That tinged her blistered skin.
And so she wept her prickly tears.
But when she’d cried a spell
She wiped the tears from off her checks
And wandered back through hell.
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