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Through the skin,
Through the vein,
It was a needle
That masked the pain.

***** after *****,
I kept going
Until I felt no longer sick,
Too weary to worry.

The skin goes red,
Leaving indentations
But they looked
More welcoming than
Intimidating.

My brain is
No longer mush,
The fog
Pushed to the side,
I could finally confide in the light

My tears turn
To coal,
Burning at day,
No longer cold at night,
It keeps the sad thoughts at Bay.
We sizzle our skin
To burn away the sin
That breaks our bones
And tears us apart
From within
what's written
in red ink
lies pain
burried deep
enough to not
make a sound
aon lann
go géar
nó fírinneach
a thógáil amach
cad atá tú


no blade
that sharp
or untrue
to take away
what is you
Credits to Temporal Fugue for this beautiful poem I found
I want to strum to the beat
Of your heart,
Dance with your soul.

I want to pretend
Your name wont leave me
With sorrows
As soon as you go.

I want to make our last night
One you fight
To leave your memory

I want to watch as
Our last embers
Fade out of control
From the black coal
That turned to ashes.
I couldn't run,
I couldn't hide
So I kept a silver blade
By my side
I'm the shadow
Casted by the sun,
Feeling small
As the day's begun.

I watch people
With nameless faces
Go places
With no destination,
No purpose.

I watch them with
Bruised ribcages
And flowers blooming from their arms,
Pretending to be a part
Of the crowd,
Pretending to fit in.

Their hearts are shattered to dust,
But they fix it
With stiches and staples that turned to rust,
Pretending all the pieces fit

Their shirts are filled
With pins and needles,
that poke their skin
Pretending not to notice
The emptiness filling in.

But I stay put.
My shadow is too small to notice,
Too scared to move.
My mind is almost as broken as theirs,
But my door is fully open,
Not pretending.
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