Peace by Pain

January 29, 2012
the wet red tracks lay
in perfect lines across my wrist,
stinging, burning,
it chases away the mental storm,
the buzzing of harsh words,
you’re not good enough,
you’ll never be,
the even dripping lines are louder
than the buzzing,
some solitude
only on the cold tile,
the scarlet drops staining the grout
peace by pain

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