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By Silverfalcon, Salmiya, Kuwait

Edge of cold cruelty
Pressed against unsteady skin
Ragged gasps unlocking
The havoc of a possible sin

Promises of resistance
As broken as shards of glass
Driven to it by despair
Yet repulsed by the need to tear

The tempest inside peaks
Battering aginst walls of denial
Waves upon waves of black
Fury prevents the blade going slack

A moment of weakness
Of no hope, no light
A deep line is slicked
Crimson strength stains her sight

Need to stop to stay alive
Need to cut to feel alive

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