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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:00:58 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 13410
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => butchered flesh
[time] => 2003-02-27 03:20:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I look one last time in the mirror,
One last glance at my living horror. I see the knife; I just sit there and stare, It's taunting me to do it then and there. I pick up the blade press it against my skin, A shriek of pain, as the knife plunges in. But its not over I must do it once more, Across the other wrist, the blood begins 2 pour. And the pain is so real; these cuts are so deep, That I find myself with a little weep. So continues the blood flowing out of me, Awaiting the end that seems like certainty- And the time passes, but death doesn't come, Just a feeling that everything is numb. So again with the knife, Slicing this already butchered flesh- Anything to end my life, Anything to bring death [comments] => 0 [counter] => 167 [topic] => 36 [informant] => hardcoreputa [notes] => [ihome] => 1 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide )
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