Eternal sleep

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This glistening blade shall be my pen
while my skin becomes a canvas again.
Intricate, delicate, beautiful red lines.
encircling my body elegantly intertwine.

Yet it doesn't help, nothing helps me
I'm locked up with no hope to be free.
Just trying to cover up who I am within
as tears slip down my face to my chin.

I can't do this anymore, it's too tough.
For the first time the razor isn't enough,
neither do writing poems help me out
I've gone too far down this dark route.

Still deeper and deeper the knife goes
until the metallic crimson starts to flow.
Perhaps one day I'll cut far too deep,
and enter the world of eternal sleep.

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