Copyright Giorgio

These tears of blood flow down my face,
into my open wounds,
put there by my own free will,
releasing feelings of guilt,
sadness, anger, and anxiety
into the drops of dirty blood
that secreats from my gashes.
Sweet blood trickles down my arm
into pools of euphoria and bliss.
These razors cut my skin,
and slice through my soul,
letting a ray of light
illuminate the darkness of my heart
and awakening the ghosts of my dreams.
I do this when no one is there.
No pats on the back
no one holding my hand,
no one there to offer their shoulder
for me to cry on.
All alone, for myself to deal with
shattered emotions and crushed love.
At least these wounds have never
called me names,
never stood me up,
never yelled, screamed or hit me,
never bruised my confidence.
never spat on my self esteem.
I keep them hidden,
for this is my secret,
that cannot be shared with anyone else,
no one in the world could
see these cuts of desperation and depression.
When this ends a scar
wil be my only reminder
of days when I was lost
in my mind, searching
for a place to belong…


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