A/N: This entry is the product of the combination of my friends brain spasms and boredom in our chemistry class.
Cutting, cutting, making scars,
I pour my blood into a jar.
I can't seem to stop myself,
I really think that I need help.
Cutting, cutting, making scars,
I plunge the knife into my heart.
YOU ARE READING
The Cutters Lullaby, and Other Rhymes and Poems
PoezjaA collection of writings that I've come across over time, whether by Wattpad, searched on the internet, told by friends, or by reading a friends writing.
