story of my life

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Grabbing a knife

I cut myself a line.

For all the pain I feel

I add a new design.

"Why do I do this", I say

As I make for a sharper blade

"Because I'm a fat whore", I say.

The blood makes me feel displayed.

Hurtful words ring through my ears

Making me slit my wrist more.

'This barely even hurts", I screech

Hoping that if I say it even, it will be true

Moboby appreciates me

I always feel left out.

Everyboby shuns me away

I don't know what that's about.

Am I no good for them

is that what it is.

Am I joke to them

An object without bones to break or feelings to hurt.

Am I just some toy that you provoke

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