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May 2012
I don’t want to talk

because I don’t want to feel;

I’d hate to convince you

that these feelings are real.

I promise I’m smiling,

a bright shining star;

so don’t you come over,

just stay where you are.

Ignore all the phone calls,

mixed with my endless pleas;

I swear that it’s nothing,

I just needed to bleed.

My veins have stayed shut,

so don’t raise the alarm;

I spill out onto paper,

to save wrists from harm.
Julia Low
Written by
Julia Low
598
   Glassmuncher
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