deepundergroundpoetry.com
No Title.
"Did I not give all the love that I could give?"
Her hands are stained from the blood she drew from her skin.
She drew the monster back in.
She's saving them.
Why can't they see?
But they demand her to stop cutting again.
So, she rots, and she boils within.
The monster wants blood,
And if it's not hers,
It'll surely be theirs,
So, she hides in a corner and begins to cut her skin again.
Her hands are stained from the blood she drew from her skin.
She drew the monster back in.
She's saving them.
Why can't they see?
But they demand her to stop cutting again.
So, she rots, and she boils within.
The monster wants blood,
And if it's not hers,
It'll surely be theirs,
So, she hides in a corner and begins to cut her skin again.
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