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Wonder
February 15, 2014
Often I wonder
why after all of this
that has passed my eyes
and traveled through my soul,
why I am still breathing
why I haven't yet
taken a knife to my wrist
downed a bottle of pills
or tried to fly
the thought of dying sounds so bittersweet in my mind
and at the same point I often
find myself
the knife, my pen and my scars the words bleeding out my pain
© Anonymous
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