there are scars on my wrists
i call it I Am So Lonely It Hurs
i wake up in the middle of the night
i don't know how there are so many cuts on my skin
i just keep bleeding all day
1 pm at the bus stop
my blood melt throung my fingers
i don't know how there are so many cuts on my skin
the wind makes my bruises burn
the wind makes my thoughts run
the wind sends my soul to the sun
and i will never know how to heal the cuts on my skin.
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