My secret.

I hurt on the inside.

I feel guilt to whom I lied.

The pressure builds,

And my resolve is stilled.  

I bargain to abstain, 

But usually it is in vain.

The night peaks.

Yet another tear leaks.

I'm ravishingly searching,

For the thing to soothe my hurting.

It's the blade I find,

Yet I feel it's kind.

Three slashes is the fix 

To continue my theatrical tricks.

I stand healed

While blood becomes revealed.

I feel at peace

Even when the blood refuses to cease.


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