The blade is cold like ice
It touches my skin for the first time
I make sure it's not that deep, after all, I don't want people staring.
The next time I feel worse
So the cut goes deeper
Just a tad
Not much
But just enough.
The next time I'm drowning in my tears
The once clean shiny blade is now old and dirty
I don't care.
I go deeper and deeper until tears aren't the only thing I'm drowning in.
Everything goes black
Now I'm awake and start again.I will update tomorrow. Please vote and comment your thoughts!
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YOU ARE READING
The book of misery
PoetryThis is poetry of every day life, you can relate to at least one of these.