writings on wrists

“Oh, what a waste of a perfectly good clean wrist…”

~*~

you can make me laugh

then fucking cry

i’m so riddled with guilt

but you made me fly

your words are lyrical

every note a butterfly kiss

assuring me again

of what i might miss

oh, i can only wish

that i kept my promise

and i turned to you

instead of doing damage

your names collide

with the filthy red scars

black ink against purple veins

soon, they’ll win the war

what’s done is done

and blood falls forever

but while you’re still singing with me

i’ll do my best to be stronger.

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