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This takes a slightly...less empassioned and more objective look at an old habit of mine (cutting). (Less bloodlust, you might say) I'm questioning it.
When the stresses of your life
The daily worries, regiments
Set fire to your aching bones
And put pressure on your chest,
Should you be concerned when pain is therapeutic?
When the air is stiff with tension
As is every conversation
Should you be worried with your revelation
That this pain is therapeutic?
When enflamed flesh
And cuts so raw
Put your worries at bay
Should you be the least bit worried
That you calm yourself this way?
When shame meets blood
Meets blade, meets skin
Where are your troubles really stored?
Are you really curing anything
Or pushing it back once more?
Leave me a review and...you'll be awesome.