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Seeds of a Cycle
The scars are coming back
Crimson
Swollen
Aching
Fading to a
Fine white line
Just like my emotions
They bud
Explode
Wither
Heal, and are
Forgotten, uncared for
A sad, repetitive cycle
Pain
Cut
Bleed
Over and over
Ignored never broken
My blood like a seed
Drop
Bloom
Rot
Make it stop
MAKE IT STOP
