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- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:18pm
Thread Topic: No Subject
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The knife lays on the counter,
whispering my name,
its blade itching for my wrist.
I try to pull back,
but it never works...
The knife flies in my hand,
cuts into my flesh.
It hurts for a while,
but then the soothed feeling
tells me,
"You're okay." -
Lucyheartfillia Novice0_0
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-.-
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