Damn it.
I was two days clean. Now a few probably need stitches. Hopefully they stop bleeding. But if they don't. Oh well. I'm better off dead anyway
YOU ARE READING
The broken
PoetryThe stinging burn of the water from my fresh cuts. The hot salty liquid streaming down my red hot cheeks. The times I am in so much pain that I can't even cry anymore.
184
Damn it.
I was two days clean. Now a few probably need stitches. Hopefully they stop bleeding. But if they don't. Oh well. I'm better off dead anyway
