10 december 2011

prose

Tahlia Hilton
Tahlia Hilton

The Release

I cut my wrists once before
The blade, felt soothing, and the worries, and heartache washed away with the blood
I am stuck, everything that means anything to me has gone
I have nowhere to go, and no one to turn to
Resisting the urge to do that again
The relief is something I desire so much
But I don’t want the scars that remain. 
 

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