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Jul 18
Make two fists.
Slit my wrists.
Feeling lost in a wreck.
Slash my neck.
Free me from suffering.
My life, I give as offering.
End me.
Free me.
For life has no meaning.
Light has ceased beaming.
Where is God?
I am null and void.
I don't belong.
I sing this sad song.
So I make two fists,
Slit my wrists.
Into the darkness I drift.
With my heart at a rift.
Should I live?
Or should I die?
So, I make two fists.
Imagine I've slit my wrists.
Nothing makes any sense.
The world is dense.
I wish someone would slit my wrists.
While I make two fists.
It's not death I fear.
It's living, constantly in fear.
Written by
Nikki Tshawe  29/F/Sandton
(29/F/Sandton)   
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