Scars - My head.
The cuts scab and close up too soon for my liking. They're itchy and get in my way frequently. I'm so tired. The quiet singing of a voice I don't recognize haunts me. If I attempted a shred harder, I could be calm and collected. Writing down what I think is honestly hard. Especially when I don't know what to do with my thoughts, they begin to pour out faster than I can type. I just need some rest. That's what they keep telling me. All I need is a good night's sleep. I hope I don't wake up.
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