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Swimming
Why do I long to cut?
Why don't I want to play?
to run? to sing? to dance?
I have no desire for anything
but to bleed.
The calming red.
The punishing cut,
the memories erased,
the focus fully on the act.
Not a sea of red
just a stream.
I do not wish to drown,
just swim.
Why is it so easy to hide?
Do I wish to be caught?
There is no harm done,
only therapy.
If it feels so good,
there is no reason to quit.
