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Friday, June 27th

by camskari

Last night, or this morning, I did it again.

I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know where I’ve been.

 

I take a disposable razor, and work to get out the blade.

I let it curse my mind, and I let my sweet smile fade.

 

I take off all loose ends, and make the blade accessible.

Knowing what comes soon, what will become unforgettable.

 

It’s been a while since the last, will it hurt more?

Will I be able to stand up tall, or crying on the floor.

 

Does it bother you to know I’m not as perfect as I seem?

Is it troubling to wish that I could escape inside a dream?

 

As I let it hit my skin, ever so lightly

I let the blade shine, ever so brightly

 

It enters me, and makes me bleed

I compare myself to a rose, and how I am a weed.

 

Does it hurt you to see me full of sorrow?

Or does it make you happy to know I may not be here tomorrow.

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