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Someone will stab you in the back.
You’ll look down, see blood, and think,
“There’s no way this will heal on its own.”
You’ll stitch yourself up,
Believe your own lies.
And you’ll be happy because well,
It’s healing, isn’t it?
But one night, You’ll think too much.
Rip the stitches and disprove yourself.
You’ll miss them, terribly.
It will bleed more than ever before.
You will remember everything.
It will be harder this time,
To convince yourself.
But oh, you will.
You’ll be fine again, for a while.
But slowly, your stitches will once again
Slowly let go. You won’t even notice,
Lies will become false again.
Pain will sneak up on you.
Looking down, you’ll see the blood.
Someone may mention, “You’re bleeding.”
You might mutter a weak, “I know.”
It will heal eventually, stitches will hold.
You’ll create lies that could be true.
You won’t bleed anymore.
Dare I say, it’ll be over.
Was it really worth it? You’re gutted,
Stripped of your dignity so many times.
It will surely scar. Even if you heal,
You’ll always be reminded of the pain.