Phobia

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Phobia

I hate wrists
No, it doesn't have a cyst
The skin is soft and smooth
Although on the top part there is a groove
The underside is absolutely sickening
I can feel my vision thickening
Those ivy green veins make me queasy
Even thinking about it isn't easy
My wrist, so fragile and meek
I can't help that it makes my knees go weak
Someone could just grab it like that
No big feat to make it bend then snap
Imagine the noise it would utter
Crick, crunch, scream, it simply makes me shudder
The skin so delicate and fine
Now picture a razor and cutting across one of those lines
Slicing the flesh with one easy swipe
Blood seeps out slowly, like water out of a pipe
I can feel my viridian and turquoise veins boiling
Visions everywhere around me start coiling
People say it starts with a thirst
'The hardest part is always first'
I don't cut, cause I know the effect
Go ahead, give me a wrist check
My stomach rolls every time I think of that gist
How delicate and petite, my little wrist
The room starts to close in
My breathing comes in gasps, the air too thin
I can't take it, I'm hyperventilating
Oh God please help me ' or am I just not worth saving?





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