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Wounds

  • Here on my arm lies a wound that I made.
    When I was so low, I cut with a razor blade
    To discipline my body for being a mess,
    Though here is my testament, I must confess...

    Seeing these scars left on my arms, legs, and fingers
    Makes me realize I was in a place of no return;
    I feel guilt ridden inside for leaving this memorandum.
    Now I will see and remember that I was so broken.

    But seeing these scars helps me realise
    That I survived so much anguish and now I am free.
    So I ask you now to stand with me and battle,
    To show all these demons and monsters in our minds what they're doing is wrong.

    You won the battle of virtuous versus insubordinate.
    You are still alive.
    Here on my arm lies a medal of survival.
    I got through my hate and beat my self-rival.

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