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Genie
My morbid thought corodes my mind Like vines wrapping around a building
Leave me to my decision
I cut with the utmost precision
Needing the physical pain
But hating it just the same
My knives shy away from me
As if intentionaly prolonging my misery
Im not doing this because of you
I know that you don't even care
The cold blade rests upon hungry skin
Wanting and longing to rip and tear
The knife may have slipped
I may have pushed too deep
But now that it's done
I can think of noreason to weep
My wish has been granted
By my psycopathic genie
And there's nobody here
To witness or see me
I fall to the now red spattered floor
Rest my head against the porcelain
Fall into a sleep that I know I wont be waking up from
My morbid thought corrodes my mind
Like vines wrapping around a building
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