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Elisabeth Sep 12
A mirror reflects harsher words than I’ve ever heard,
Even if they’re slurred.

These words say they won’t grieve,
Won’t care if I leave.

I go after my veins looking to bleed
Maybe then I can be freed.

These voices continue to come in a flood-
Maybe I can escape with my blood.

I can hear them no matter how much I scream and shout
Maybe another sting will draw them out

Another sting and I’ll feel something else.
Maybe then I’ll feel my pulse.

Another sting and maybe it will mask the sting of my own words...
Elisabeth Sep 12
Numb spreads through your veins.

Spreading like ice on the surface of a fast freezing lake.

You are becoming frozen, hypothermic.

Immobile like the mannequins in the shop windows.

Your fingers and toes tingle, and your throat is paralyzed.

Eyes transfixed by a hypnotist.

Glossy, like all the rest unmoving, empty behind the glaze.

Your head lulls to the side, a puppet done with the show.

Water beats at your shell, yelping yearning for your thoughts.

Your brain has flown away, back to its own fairy-tale, leaving your corpse behind.

— The End —