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The Marks

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The marks cave in
As I keep going.
Getting redder and redder.
More close together.
Their easier everytime.
Everytime, it almost costs my life.
There's no one around.
No sound.
No frowns.
No one except me.
Only me
And just me.
All I feel is ease.
I press harder and harder
While my marks get darker.
It takes away my pain
And everyone else's blame.
If only they knew.
Be caught,
Then no more marks.
I don't know if I can stop.
I don't know if I'll ever stop.
Stop the marks...
Stop the art...
Stop beating myself up,
Or is this really what I've become?
And is this me?
What I'm suppose to be?
The marks say it all.
All I do is ball.
And there's no one here,
So who's gonna catch
Me when I fall?





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This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

Renee170 said...
Jan. 13, 2009 at 4:09 pm
Has anyone ever actually cutted yourself or had a friend hurt themselves? I've done research on self abuse and learned that one of the best ways to help someone is to be supportive. Reach out and make a differnece.
 
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