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Jan 2015
As I lace at my skin, delicate and soft.
It spreads with ease, making me clench my teeth.
As the crimson flows away
Just like my life, both released with a knife.
Now I lay; waiting for my judgement day.
This is a poem, that came unto me during my times of major depression, and when poetry seemed like the only thing to save me.
Quentin House
Written by
Quentin House  Willard, MO.
(Willard, MO.)   
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