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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.
0
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 2:31 PM UTC
save a wrist, carve on paper.
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
American
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 2:31 PM UTC
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