Ironic
Always raw
And always mending
from the constant
Break and bending
I go to far
I go to deep
The wounds so fresh
Its hard to sleep
These scars aren't new
their just revived
Must slice in deep
to feel alive
My skin, so pale
from lack of life
These lines, so red
from blade and knife
Ironic it seems
how this keeps me sane
Must marr my own flesh
To kill all my pain.
Copyright © Brittney Rhoda-Goode | Year Posted 2008
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