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During the day he smiles, but he cries himself to sleep every night.

He struggles to eat, he lost his apetite.

Every minute of his life he tries to put himself together, but he can't.

He stays broken inside.

He says hi to everyone at school,

But his only real frend is the knife.

The pain of the sharp blade touching his arm gives him comfort.

The comfort that nothing and nobody else in this world could give him.

When he sees blood, that's when the guilt starts to kick in.

He feels guilty, but that doesn't stop him.

He'll never stop.

Because he loves the pain.

And he loves the thought that what he's doing couldpotentially kill him    

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