March 1, 2011
Warm, red, oozing

Sharp, cold, deadly

I feel you running down my arm
Too many cuts to hide
I’m painting a picture
No paint or paintbrushes
Just blood and razorblades

You want to see it?
Just lift up my sleeve

My only friends
Always there to comfort me
Always there to numb the pain

The painting is almost complete
Just one more slice
I move the blade from my arms to my neck
And slice

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