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Date Written: September 16, 2017

Write your poem here.

I don’t want to hate myself,
cut myself and bleed,
but feeling hot red rushing through,
fills me with such need.

the need to slice in ‘liar’, ‘fraud’,
blade plunged to the hilt,
anything to hurt myself,
and rectify this guilt.

They say it’s ok to be sad,
(for the first year or so),
but when it is your default state,
their strain begins to show.

I’m sorry mom, i am this way,
i’m sorry i’m no good,
at loving this here child of yours,
don’t think i ever could.

So if i am to die some day,
by this, your daughter’s hand,
know i loved you very much,
it’s me that i can’t stand.

One comment on “Burden”

  1. River.Ophelia     September 24, 2017

    good read

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