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You started looking at my wrist Asking me if I was cutting You started to notice I wasn't wearing white I always wore white around your father He had a tendency of disliking dark colors Thought it was emo and devilish But I change that when he saw the cross you gave me Around my neck You'd try and pull my shirt off When we were making out in your room I leaped up and headed out the door You knew right away I was hiding something Pulled my shirt up and saw The patterned scars on my chest The crisscrossing of blade touched lines Darkened and still bleeding Burning from the incision Irritated when you rubbed against it This time it wasn't my wrist bleeding It was something that still had the effect I craved And the disgust you so intolerably loathed
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
This Time It Wasn't My Wrist Bleeding
You started looking at my wrist Asking me if I was cutting You started to notice I wasn't wearing white I always wore white around your father He had a tendency of disliking dark colors Thought it was emo and devilish But I change that when he saw the cross you gave me Around my neck You'd try and pull my shirt off When we were making out in your room I leaped up and headed out the door You knew right away I was hiding something Pulled my shirt up and saw The patterned scars on my chest The crisscrossing of blade touched lines Darkened and still bleeding Burning from the incision Irritated when you rubbed against it This time it wasn't my wrist bleeding It was something that still had the effect I craved And the disgust you so intolerably loathed
Idk. Just not in a writing mood.
robert-guerrero
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
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