Forty.

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Swollen knuckles and clenched fists.
Brand new razors against my wrists.
Eyes so red with makeup smeared.
So much worse than I feared.

Creatures, screams, endless voices.
Reminding me of my bad choices.
Skipping meals and cutting class.
Punching mirrors, broken glass.

Burns around my neck from the rope,
Each day I find it hard to cope.
Lost with no directions given.
Trapped in this world I don't want to live in.

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