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Scraping.. Tearing.. Pulling.. The one thing I have control over, The one thing to take my mind off my life, The one thing to calm me down. Running.. Dripping.. Bleeding.. To show me I'm still alive, More than an empty shell, To give me a freash start. Healing.. Scarring.. Staying.. My silent cry for help, I'm not always okay, Not always smiling.. And I can't always be strong. It tells what my voice cannot say, It cries for what my mind cannot comprehend, What my pride cannot allow me to show. It hurts less than what I must bear, It speaks for what will not pass my lips, It takes me far away, if only for a moment. My crimson savior...