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by Becky Jun 20, 2006 category : Sadness, depression / about depression
So you slice your wrists think the doors you open let your problems out well sorry to say you simply make room for more pain to enter blood being to pain as pollen is to a bee inviting by cutting your arm those little red lines become welcome signs above the door you say it solves problems.... then why are yours still there?
by NicholasRyan
Hey nice poem how hve u been