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The Blade of Deep Frustration.

Poetry By: My Overactive Imagination

About my self-harming. Please leave me a little orange box. (Please no attacking me for self-harming)

Submitted:May 5, 2011    Reads: 47    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   

The Blade of Deep Frustration
The blade of deep frustration
creates patterns upon my shoulders
the pain burns, but I smile
beads of blood, in lines like soldiers
Eyes still, transfixed
while shallow breaths waver
mind blank and eyes blind
as memories are engraved

The blade, angry, sings
words that haven't been heard in a while
it bites neatly but deep
while I stand, numb, yet I smile

Skin now smothered red
the colour of death and pain
new patterns, eager and aware
whisper, voices of the insane

The blade of deep frustration
falls to the floor
I should regret, feel pain
but I smile, and stare at scars from before


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