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Chaos Jan 20
Before my biggest fear was fire
Now it’s come to be my best supplier
Spark the flame on something metal
Beset my skin and let it it settle
As the hair begins to sizzle down
All I’m left with is an inverted frown
I do it again and again it’s never enough
As much as I try I can’t be tough
After a while it ceases to hurt anymore
And it leaves my mind to wander and explore
The following days it oozes with pus
I keep it my secret so others don’t fuss
The mangled skin stays scarred forever
I don’t hate it for I could never
If it weren’t for the flame I always knew
I know I’d end it through and through
Chaos Jan 20
In my heart nothing’s ever missing
If I have my skin and blade kissing
I swipe and I slash so I can vent
Blood in the cut leaves me content
I’m a mess when I can’t feel
The letter cutter leaving my skin to peel
Without the pain I’m left somber  
So the wounds it leaves make me ponder
Someone help me I don’t know what to do
I’m married to the blade that keeps me blue
Chaos Jan 20
A silver harmonica lustrous and new
Left alone too long and went askew
Rust and grime build up the edges
Mold and fungi growing in the wedges
Once played over and over again
Played so cunningly it should’ve know then
Letting out a peep of despair
That silver harmonica became aware
It refused to sing its melodic tune
And was discarded under the blood red moon
Only to sit deep in the foreboding shade
Wondering if she should’ve just stayed.

— The End —