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Free Love Poems \


By mybiteistrue on 11/27/2007
Viewed: 390
Reviews: 2

It scares me how I need to watch my blood
collect in drops along a reddened line
that I have carved into my skin for good.
It scares me how everyone thinks I'm fine.

It scares me how I'm good at acting out
this person who would laugh rather than cry
or someone whose whole life is all about
always wanting to live rather than die.

And left or right an inch and stronger will,
if guided with a heavy, forceful hand,
could end a life that has many years still.
It scares me how I'd do it but I can't.

I am not strong enough to put an end
to either way I can expect relief.
It scares me how good I am at pretend,
but how much better I relate to grief.

One day the cut will never cease to bleed
and if that day should come, I am prepared.
I'm dying slowly, drowning in the greed
it takes to end your own life. I AM SCARED.

© By mybiteistrue On 11/27/2007 9:34:20 PM
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