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romanianrefugee in Poetry & Free Verse

Exacto

I love the way it feels in my hand.

My palms are sweaty but the metal is cool.

A thin silver tube hollow and light.

The blade glints is the sun.

I press it gently against my wrist 

and then I pull.

It's not the pain that makes things easier, its the scar.

Two little dark lines on my wrist that on one has noticed.

I run my fingers across them when I need to be reminded.

They burn when I wash my hands and I feel a slight panic 

when my friend pulls at my sleeve.

But its worth it because I did it.

Not him but me.