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The Blood Is Already Dripping
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March 2004 Poetry I sit here,
and all I can think about,
is the glimmer of the blade,
I can’t wait to penetrate my skin.
It’s time to go.
I’ve loved and lost,
what more is there to live for?
I’m shaking with anticipation,
a smile comes to my face,
with just that thought,
and nothing more,
the blood is already dripping,
but I’m already dead.
~*~ Jill ~*~
