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grip

I'm losing my grip on reality. A I find it harder whit everyday that passes to control myself. The thought of cutting off a limb seems soothing and peaceful despite the blood pain and screams. I stare. Not at one thing, but at everything and just picture it dark and destroyed. As if I can be in control again. I regret who I was, and reject who I am.
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Written by
joe-maddox
Irish
Published
Jun 2, 2011
Lines·Words
5·69
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