*SLITTING YOUR WRISTS*
I put the blade to my arm
But imagine that it's your wrist
And stop
Realize how much pain I'm causing you
As tears stream down my face
All I ever meant to do was bleed
See that I'm alive
I never meant to cut you
Dig you into my self made grave
Where you were never meant to go
This grave's for me
The scars are mine
Symbols of my pain
Not yours
And it hurts
To see the scars on you
As I hold the blade in my hand
As if you're guiding it across your own wrist
With every slice I take at my own
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My journal. Notes I write. Poems I write. My messages to people They will never see. Songs That remind me of my life. etc.