My Favorite Color (A Poem)

(CW// Self Harm)

The metal is cool against my burning skin.
I haven’t started yet, but I can already see the lines.
A memory of the past, the future.

Perhaps this can cut through what I feel.
Perhaps this can make it real.
Perhaps this will be the time.
Perhaps this will make it fine.

To cut, to not, to heal, to rot
Why does it matter?
What’s the point?
I don’t know what to do anymore.

Fuck it, why not, right?

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One thought on “My Favorite Color (A Poem)

  1. dreamin says:

    uh, no…. this^ is of course bullshit. check your email girl. ppl care, and you should hit them up prior to getting this way. as many special folx that’re in _your_ life, at least ONE should be able to help you through this **hugs***

    Like

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