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The Easy Way Out

I wake up each day with the same though in my head.
Wishing everything was over,
Wishing I were dead.
 
And each day i rise,
I rise with the same pain.
Cutting straight into my thighs
Only to heal again.
 
And each night,
I fall upon my throne of knives,
Gripping the handle tight,
Wishing to never again rise.
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