Today

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Wrote this in school, haha, ironic.

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Is there a reason

I suffer every day?

Is there a reason

My life is this way?

Always hiding

Because it's the only thing I can do.

Am I the only one

Or is there someone else too?

Can I get better

Or am I only getting worse?

Can I get through this quietly

Or am I going to scream myself hoarse?

Living in fear

Because of how I was raised.

Can I live to be old

Or is it the end of my days?

Can I stop the bad habit

Of making myself bleed?

Or is it insatiable,

An ever-lasting need?

I wonder if anyone would notice

That I had left.

Would they be heartbroken,

An ever-present cleft?

Or would my death

Just be ignored?

Another troublesome problem

Of the parents of an "attention-seeking whore"?

Would life cease to matter

To anyone at all

If I died today,

The end of the fall?

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-Kat

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