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new poem


punkrawker

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Confessions of a cutter silence

 

only tears

as i press the blade

against my pale skin.

 

red

the blood flows

from the wounds

echoing my inner pain.

 

satisfaction

as i feel the knife

slicing into me

i only deserve pain.

 

anguish

as i realize what i have done

i feel accomplishment

as i gaze at the marks upon my skin.

 

stares

people are horrified

dont understand why

i gaze down at my scars and neither

do i.

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