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scatterbrained
Poems
May 2015
Roses are Red
Last night I slit my wrist, so that maybe some of you would bleed out of me
And i'd have one last piece to hold on to
But all i was left with, was the red tint of loneliness and my own scatterbrained hands.
Written by
scatterbrained
24/F/somewhere around here
(24/F/somewhere around here)
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