See the knife?
Go on, touch it.
Pick it up.
It can't hurt you.
It beckons you over.
You stop.
Stop thinking.
Soon, you stop breathing.
You have no life.
That's what blades are;
a harsh reminder.
It taunts you.
Mocks you mercilessly.
Lets you know that you don't really matter.
It tries to help.
It helps.
It wins the battle; you suffer the loss.
Reaching out, you grab the handle.
Out with the good,
in with the bad.
Hold it against your wrist.
Out with the good.
Push down hard.
In with the bad.
Pause, if only for a lifetime.
Blood. Pain. Hate. Tears. Anger. Emotion.
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