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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Psychology · #1134686
A man who turns to self-harm in times of need

Dreary times call upon despite meausres
An insipid world finally eased
To ensconced to emerge from it's plessure
Discreet to hide the scars that once appeased
Drawn to insinate his ever growing needs

A burden constantly to bare
Like a bypass that leads nowhere
Yearning for something more
Then falling to the floor
With ensanguined hands

Black as the sky that leads him back outside
Still yearning for something burning
Oppressive to mirrors plenty
Becomeing his own worst enemy
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