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May 2015
Blood drips from the blade just as it does from the wrist.
Splatters as it hits the floor.
The tears stain the face.
The blade is the words hurting her heart.
The blood is the laughs that surround her at school.
The tears are the bruises from home.
Her wrist is her final goodbye.
Copyright © 2015 Camron Elliott
Camron Elliott
Written by
Camron Elliott  Texas
(Texas)   
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