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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1244307
A poem about how i felt last time i cut
This blood of mine
It drips
And falls
Pooling at my feet.
Strangely though
I feel no pain
Instead there is a rush.
I feel my pulse begin to race
Adrenaline replacing heartache
The colour drains from my face
As the bloody puddle widens.
I stare in awe of what I’ve done
At the river of red
Trickling down my arm
And think, What have I done this for
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