unhealthy coping
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Muted grey
Shades of pain
Blurry sneers
My arms stretched out
Coils freeze on my limbs
Hanging above soulless concrete
There is a voice in the back of my skull that screams for release,
That can only be found in a razor blade, or between your lips.
If I pick and prod at my flesh enough I realize soon enough I can't feel anything,
