Categories > Original > Poetry > Cutter's Lullaby
I am a book, a hard one to read, with tear damaged pages; and yet there you sit cause you've made it your deed, as you stare at me for ages.
You close your eyes, even duck your head; you can look to the skies, but your face is still red.
Judged by my cover, the words on my back; now flip me back over, dare you to open me further than a crack.
Don't be afraid, just cause you can't see; stop trying to evade, cause this is the real me.
Hold me close to you my dear, and let the tears roll on your cheeks; but don't ever lose that fear, I'll only distract you for a few weeks.
You close your eyes, even duck your head; you can look to the skies, but your face is still red.
Judged by my cover, the words on my back; now flip me back over, dare you to open me further than a crack.
Don't be afraid, just cause you can't see; stop trying to evade, cause this is the real me.
Hold me close to you my dear, and let the tears roll on your cheeks; but don't ever lose that fear, I'll only distract you for a few weeks.
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