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by Calli Dec 5, 2006 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
It's a habit to cut and it's a pleasure to bleed, it's either that or smoking weed. those are the two things that make me feel better, the more depressed i feel the more my wrists get wetter. I'll talk to my mom I'll tell her a lie, and say I'm out for a walk when I'm really getting high. on those days when i want to cry, i might need these things or maybe I'll be forced to die.