Teenage Angst/Emo before it had a name
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Close your eyes my dear,
the pain only lasts long enough to hurt.
Close your eyes and it may go away.
If only the truth didn't hurt so bad.
Especially when the truth is the realization of your own self hate.
Self mutilation is a key to the mind.
It opens up dark hallways and lets the soul escape,
free to roam the wild blue yonder,
the grassy knoll where the assassins sit and wait for the oncoming traffic.
Ready to shoot,
locked on the target.
The soul shrieks back into it's dwelling,
struck down by a single bullet
or was it two
or maybe a bombardment
an onslaught of hate.
Words that mean nothing yet everything.
Words that tear at the being and scar for life, months, days, or years.
Bullets that rip at the innards and thrust them outward,
to be lost in the realm of the self-conscious never to be retrieved again.
Close your eyes and sleep.
For sleep will whisk away the pain, the heartache, the hatred,
the self mutilation, the soul,