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Tags: Self, Harm


poem


Submitted:May 26, 2011    Reads: 117    Comments: 41    Likes: 9   


Lying in the dark

Counting the cracks in the ceiling

Cold skin

Cold hands tremble

It all comes falling in

Warm blade grazes cold flesh

Cold hand trembles

I won't!

I won't!

I won't!

Drip

Drip

Drip

Cold hands tremble

Numb





9

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