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Jan 2017
My friends don't care
They leave me here to bleed
I cry when I get home
And bleed myself to sleep

The darkness will sing,
"Honey don't cry,
Cut your wrists, close your eyes
And dream of broken butterflies"

I'm an artist with a masterpiece
My inspiration comes in rushed
So my wrist becomes my canvas
And my razor becomes my brush
Izzy Krompack
Written by
Izzy Krompack  United States
(United States)   
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