Breadcrumbs:
Love until we bleed.
Each drop,
a thought,
a memory,
a feeling,
to be excised.
barrier, boundary,
between me and the outside.
Why then, do I still tear it open?
A decade of cutting away
dead flesh, cauterizing.
old scars ripped open over and over..
and still it is not enough..
Such beautiful dignity in self-abuse.
FIN.

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