Deeper and deeper
the blade does delve
into my fragile wrist,
it pours out the
sap of my being
and I go crumbling
down into pieces.
The scars are but
memories of pain
and misery that
I must cover or
they'll all try and
lock me away.
Without the pain
my eyes go and
leak out the liquid
of my soul and
when that is dry
I'll be no more.
Just a worthless shell
of a human, and so
I wrap myself in
cloths and hide the
signs that I'm not okay,
waiting for the day
that someone comes
to take me in their arms
and hold me till
The End.
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