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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1779959-It-calls-me
by RayRay
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1779959
this is a breif description of my take on my own addiction
I awoke in a white lifeless room. This wasnt heaven. This was my own personal Hell. My escape plan had not succeeded. I was being forced to stay on what people call mother earth. If she was anything of a mother she wouldnt let me endure this taunting life. No, the only thing that was motherly to me was in the form of a silver blade. It did not judge. It did not bully. It was always there whe i needed a companion. But this silver blade is what caused me to be trapped inside this black hole. A black hole not even superman could save me from.
This was something i have to conquer on my own, and on my own is how i shall remain until im not an emo, a freak or an addict. Who wants to be friends with someone who hurts themselves on purpose,to turn emotional pain into physical pain, a person who hated themselves? Nobody, thats who.
But fear not i still have my blade to help me let out my problems. But unlike most people I can see my problems come out of me....in a form of crimson liquid.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1779959-It-calls-me