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#razorblades
Worship, You will worship At the cemetery cross of a mother Who couldn't spare you a tear Even if you were her own. Worship, Worship, You will hang yourself From the cross & Not even God Or Bohumil himself Could spare a tear For one as small as you. Worship, Worship, The razor blades you've sewn Inside your sleeves Will be forgotten Till the next bitter winter Will make your blood drip And fall Worship You must worship Till the bleeding stops Till your heart beats slowly Worship Till they tell you You aren't as pure as you should be Worship And admit that maybe You're inclined to tragedy
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Jun 27, 2021
Jun 27, 2021 at 3:53 PM UTC
Hrabel's own
Tissues bloomed with red hidden under your pillow silver sits ignored but not forgotten in your beside desk hidden hidden hidden Ive run out of places to give myself scars Ive run out of places to burn My wrists scared my thighs burned my neck sliced to bits I guess I could stop now No space for more scars but pain is my vice pain is my savior scars over scars over scars No one sees my arms anymore Just one more Ok a stick and poke tattoo as an alternative Make art instead of pain Oh no i failed Time to find those hidden blades Hidden razors No where to hid the razor blades anymore Nowhere to hid the scars Hidden. Blood is all I see I see red Red Red RED
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Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 2:43 PM UTC
Hidden scars, Hidden razor blades, Hidden pain
(I know sunflowers are your favorite, but bear with me here) what makes them alike? it’s a legitimate question, I think (you were both for me) and, dear Reader, you’re wondering why. I treated you too highly, I know that now. You are no Queen. (not yet) Just a girl. With a heart, always moving, always seeking, but never faltering in its purpose. I couldn’t keep up. (but I tried like hell) You knew what you wanted. Your purpose, if not your destination. Like roses know how to bloom. They don’t ask; they just do. My fault was trying to pluck you from your spot. (oblivious to your thorns) And in doing so, I ended up hurting myself. (but not you, thank God) But that pain made me feel. (it had been a while) And I wanted more. Always more, more, more. The thorns became your appeal. And I gripped all the tighter. (until I was all but emptied) dear Reader, I hope you know why now. Roses and razor blades. what makes them alike? (they both cut)
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:37 PM UTC
roses and razor blades
It taste even sweeter when the blood is running down my arm. Every sip I take, I welcome the blade more. I've missed this pain, The familiar touch so welcoming. Comforting me like an old friend. I won't neglect you anymore, Because giving in has such a sweeter taste. No one gives me the pleasure you do. So close to insanity, But I cut the demons away. Drowning away the emptiness that keeps dragging me down. The darkness becomes stronger everyday, consuming the very essence of my mind, While I slowly drift away.
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Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC
Whiskey & Razorblades
*"Knowing that I tried my best but it still wasnt good enough. A Feeling so low that the only way I've thought of escaping was suicide. Knowing that even if I did die, it wouldnt matter who got hurt in this world because im so alone inside. I just want to fill the empty. Everyone wants me to be happy but how can I be okay living inside this mind. It's me And I just want to be happy because im not fine. There is no other way. The fact that I wouldn't be here anymore and I'd finally be at peace, to stop the voices in head, Discontinueing the negative feed my minds been fed, would make me better. With that being said for my family and friends, I love you and tho i turely am blessed Right now im lower than low and im going to rest." -So sorry.*
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Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 4:58 AM UTC
Suicide Letter
Long Sleeves. Always long sleeves. Even the summer. Who here gets it?
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 8:37 PM UTC
For those who get it