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And the Sharp Things Go-

Snickety, pickety

Scratchety, ratchety

My kiddie scissors

Go wackily hatchety.

Press, stare.

Flesh sliced bare.

My razor blade

Goes with out a care.

Poke, pin

From deep with in.

Some pointy thing

Goes under my skin.

Cry, scream.

The tears won't stream.

I'm killing my soul

And I've never been seen.
Written by Coldwelth
Published
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