Faint Little lines

by Silver   Apr 19, 2006


My morbid thoughts
Fly around my head
In a macabre fashion.
My salty tears
Coat my own face
As I am yet again,
Thrown out of grace.

My cuts that were,
Are now my reminders
Of the shell I have become.
Those fait little lines
Tell the story
Of my broken soul
And saddened heart.

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