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Monday, April 4, 2011

#94 Sings A Cutter's Song

It was an average day
In every way
There's no real reason to despair
Yet I do

An abyss yawns before me
I'm out of control
I need something
Something to hold on to

I grab my tool
My sharp right hand man
I jokingly call it Occam's Razor
Because all things being equal

I feel better after using it.

I trace the lines of my despair
Upon my arms
Upon my legs
Wherever the blackness beckons me

With the pain comes an utter calm
A peace I can't seem to get with drugs
The lines draw, and the blood flows
Gently from the shallow wounds

I close my eyes in peace
For the first time today
Two words shining redly upon my forearms
"UGLY SLUT"

I'll wear sweatshirts for a few weeks
Then you probably won't even be able to tell
That I'm wearing my pain
On my sleeves

Until the next time the darkness calls
And my sharp tongued friend rises to my rescue
There's no pain like the first time
And it never felt as good as the last


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