I'm addicted.
Not to drugs.
But to pain.
It makes me feel alive.
Thus, I crave for more.My skin itches.
Whenever it didn't get its treat.
My hands search for the tools.
My blood begs to ooze out.While my angel side trying to stop me from my craving.
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YOU ARE READING
MindMatter
PoetryEvery living thing is not perfect, so do me. I bound to commit mistakes even when I don't even wish to. This book of poetry will tell you a little bit about my life. I'm not a nice person but I'm trying to be better. Our world needs more love.