relief
A fleeting satisfaction
A silent pain
You use this to cope,
Can you call yourself sane?
An effort to relieve,
A try to be okay;
A silent cry for help,
Yet you hide it meticulously.
Other times you deserve it,
Or at least you think you do.
A punishment for being you,
A pathetic comfort.
A tiny metal,
Slits of satisfaction;
Bleeding and breathtaking,
Deadly yet fulfilling.
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