Cut

*snap*

Severed ends of a good mood

*snip*

They walk out of sight and out of life

*rip*

Your carefully assembled resolve dissolves

*slit*

Cut off from them, cut yourself

Cut the bullshit, cut your wrists

/The wrists of my mind, that is\

You doubt they were even here

No trace of her smile, no laughter echoes

Outside the window is blind

Inside here your mind is mine

I cut off your senses

To make you carve out your eyes

Claw down your arms

So when I release your mind

You'll always blame yourself

You pray for him to cut through my fog

Cut it out, no one's listening

Cut yourself

Cut yourself

/Let me feel again\

/You win\

 

/Just let me feel\

This poem is about: 
Me

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