Cuts/Scares/Open Wounds

Cut me open like you do those scars on your wrists.
You use to hate the sight of blood,
But now the sting and crimson oozing from your wrist has become your favorite addiction.

Your addiction is not to the blood, but more to the pain and the action of cutting old wounds open.

Have you not learned your lesson?
The pain will only grow numb and then you will have to do your hurtful antics on someone else, someone who cares!

So, you have found your next victim.
You cut me open along the same wounds that took years for me to close, but those-
are the ones you love to open.

You cut me open and begin the process of healing before ripping me apart, now your old wounds have sympathy for me.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Our world
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