Stiches
Stops the blood
Flowing like a flood
This black wire
Brings pain like fire
The cut so deep
Blade and skin meet
This dark string
What a complexing thing
Four knots
I think my skin might rot
Disturbing to the eye
The blood now dry
My flesh priced with holes
A cry to my soul
Black like night
A two weeklong fight
Under my figure
The stitches linger
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I write poems and random thoughts here
lust, greed, glutony, and sloth these are four of the seven deadly sins yet quiet a few people fill these emotions daily and over half of the people that do fill it give in.