Addict to my own Vixen

I'm an addict to metal against my skin.

Temptation to call that number.

1800 273 8255

Self harm hotline.

Don't you see I'm fucking broken?

Everyone pokin' their heads through a door and then never seem to look back in.

These hands, I'm gonna give them to the stars to hold.

Stars, they're so far away.

Doesn't it seem so much closer when we were youth?

Shiny seems like metal and stars have that in common.

They can't move that much.

There's my resemblance.

I'm controlled and restrained.

Brid in a cage.

Addicted to bringing others joy.

Look at the kid whose running away.

Addicted to this small, thin metal that I call a friend.

Does it matter now?

I'm clean.

This poem is about: 
Me

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