Braclets
By star
Mon, 13 Sep 2004
- 465 reads
My blood runs down my arm
I feel safe from my self-harm
My skin parts to leave a scar
But it's more than that
It's my way of charm
No pain I feel
But it is there
As cold as ice from the frozen seal
My soul is never touched
But it is weakened by my cuts
With my blade I feel whole
But after I feel cold.
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