deepundergroundpoetry.com

old habits die hard

back against a tree
head bowed low
eyes full of tears
to brave to show.

in her hand a letter, never to be sent
in her pocket a blade, warped and bent.
long scars form the past mark her arms,
its been a year now scince a blade caused her harm

no more suffering no more pain
one small cut cut, before i go insane.

one fast sweep,
cut real deep

she held the letter to her chest
she smiled at the end.

her razor turned red in the moonlight
welcome back...old friend



Written by pure_emo117
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