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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #876200
When I wrote this, I was upset and hurt, but I was getting tired of hiding the pain.
Crying voices in my head,
I hear their screaming,
they're in pain.
Feel my wounds for I know not
the hurt I see on my hands.
I see the bleeding through my tears,
I taste the sorrow as they seep
deep in my flesh like razor blades
cutting deep, numb of the pain.

Has all the harm numbed my soul
to all the feeling that may incur,
any kind of hurt or pain
that might be directed my way?

Is this a curse or a gift,
or a way to distract my fate
from changing the route,
from giving me doubts,
from feeling any other but dissent.



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