July 11, 2011
(Twi, twi, twi)
The dagger has been twisted,
the blade cutting deeper.
Etching lines,
intricate lines that cannot be copied.
The pattern is my skin,
the pattern is the ebb and flow of my nightmares.
Beating, beating,
twisting and twining,
this pattern is consuming,
burning, eating.
When will it all stop?
These scars have become my life.

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