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Apr 23
I like to play with knives
It makes me feel alive
The danger of their sting
Why should I survive?

The knife begins to dance
My skin it wants to glance
The blood it wants to bring
Drifting into trance

The knife comes to a close
Its ballet now has froze
It's handle I will cling
And bleeding canvas grows

But knives will lose their touch
And thus I leave it’s clutch
And now my heart doth sing
For you do just as much
**** heart hurty
Written by
Lost in my Head  18/M/Nunya
(18/M/Nunya)   
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