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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1402895
This is a poem I wrote when I was feeling depressed.
I walk through life unknown to myself, and with no direction. What is love? true love, the love that I can share with another and become whole. My feelings are giving and I’d be great to her, but everyone, every time has left me alone. A single razor shines in my hand, I want to bleed out my pains. I won’t cry, I need release. The blade is dismissed into the air as I am wanting and needing a way out, but the proper way. The pain is heavy and near fatal. I am dead to the world as my pain is unreleased, and life grows dark. Fear of my pain becoming visual is the only thing that keeps this blade clean. My pain is concealed as I lie to myself and I shine to a false belief that I’m alright. I need answers.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1402895-The-Blade-Clean-Because-of-Fear