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Zoe Grace Jun 2019
Pillows muffle silent screams
Gone is the blood that fills my dreams
Im sick in the head, fevered whispers
A voice in my head i don't want to hear

Around me people laugh and smile
Ask me if i want to stay a while
I'm stuck so deep i'm barely moving
Once I was bubbly now i'm brooding

Biting lips and scratching arms
Nervous tick and lack of charm
I don't trust myself around a knife
I'm clinging to the side of life

Blasting music really loud
Blocking out all other sound
Panic attack in science class?
Thats easy! Drop and break the glass!

Press it deeper, deeper, on my skin
Its leaving marks, i'm sporting a grin
Whisper whisper, scream, shout!
Too much, too much, i need an out!
...
I guess i need help if this is how i feel, right?

— The End —