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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1724797
The ache comes from my veins, running along my wrists, beating with my pulse.
The ache comes from my veins,
running along my wrists,
beating with my pulse.

The temptation is too strong;
an evil longing stirs inside,
begging for sweet, painful relief.

The scars of past weakness mock,
reaching around wrists and thighs,
hurting with the chemical addiction.

Just one touch of cold metal comfort;
one sharp, stinging weapon;
one sweet deadly high.

Please let it stop hurting,
let it slowly release me,
let me come to reality once more!
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