Cut

Cut.

Strolls through the mind,

Scars was a place he did not want to feel,

Deeper the puncture the better he felt.

It can not heal you but only break you more,

You could see the hurt in his eyes fill the air,

Running from this only made it worse.

Feeling that sorrow for so long he could not take it any longer,

So he just pushed it away bleeding through the pain.

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Cut

  1. Pingback: Teaching Poetry When You’re No Poet | Old Slate Chalkboards

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