Sad eyes and soft
Spots for splitting
Skin.
We're sucked int' a
Slum of self slic-
Ing scatterbrains.
Slim,
Stupid and sly
We don't ask why
Sin
Is our way out
We scream and shout
But not as loud
As
Our blades who shriek
"Please, please! Choose me!
Slice
At your skin, slit
Small slots into
Scarred and skinny
Wrists."
We do. And so
We let it grow
Slit-
Ting at our smooth,
Supple skin, screams
In our heads sound
Soft.
13/10/2016
C.J.
