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CAL Sep 16
i wish i wasn't so afraid of pain
of what it takes to bleed
i wish i could break more than knuckles
cut more than my knees

maybe if he took me over
we could be free
i could let him have my vessel
bleed out in a field of clover

he could exist as this
and we could live

but i am afraid of pain
i may be afraid of this
maybe tonight i'll give her a kiss
CAL Sep 15
how to apologize:
blue fruit snacks

seething anger
bruises, inbetween knuckles, blood filling the cracks

the color of his eyes
that stormy blue with grey

pale skin
dying, purple veins
CAL Sep 15
now you sit
drown in it
realize how pathetic you really are
you narcissist
i hate myself sometimes, i really really do
CAL Sep 14
i could be silent for the rest of time
(who says we even have to talk)
i want to be incinerated
(bodies don't need sound to be shared)
after the crack of myself on a sidewalk
and the crackling of my shell
there would be nothing
(my mind is never quiet but i can hold my tongue)
(why not try it)
(are you saying i'm an addict)
in death
(there are ways to coexist)
there is silence
CAL Sep 14
how long does it take for bruises to heal?
it's been proably four days
they still hurt
and hurt more now
hands are very shakey
maybe i'm just getting more fragile
re-hurting myself
plastic is not so forgiving
i'm just watching my fingers twitch
they don't want to work
cooperate
they just want to hurt
maybe if i quit punching ****
CAL Sep 14
you can feel it glide through you
simplicity
it will make you feel pure
empty
the coolness lasts
eternity

just something
good for me
CAL Sep 14
the real me did not like alchohol
the smell made him want to run

it would make the paper boy crumble
and cry

but this me
the dead boy
the mirror boy
the whatever-not-real-****-it boy

he wants to drink until he has to stop thinking
and smoke til he passes out

the old me coughed around smoke

but lucky us
those parts of me died
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