You are the blade
I cut myself with when I'm weak.
The words I can't speak,
The empty bed that I toss and turn in
Unable to sleep.
The memories I replay
when a certain song plays.
The yellow roses in bloom.
The reason my glass is always full,
As I try to drown myself
Or numb myself asleep.
Over thinking myself to a frenzy,
When I need to sleep.
You are my achilles heel.
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