salt in the wound
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I love my country.
Let me just state that now,
Proud. Loudly and clear.
My country is the melting pot.
A collage of every race, in every possible beautiful combination,
If tears are only saltwater streaks,
then my heart must be as wide and deep
as the ocean
and just as rough and salty.
The waves are crashing against me,
but I only feel numb now.