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Jul 2
I love the shock of cold for the first time,
the cold cruel pain so real and vain.
I love the way fresh blood feels under my veins.
It’s satisfactory in some weird messed up way.
I need to breath,
its the only way.
I should stop,
but then my breaths might become delayed.
It’s a never ending storm of ****** haze.
But I still won’t stop any day.
Written by
Brooklyn  18/F
(18/F)   
41
 
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