I used to say
My memories
Were like razor blades
Inside my veins

They hurt
To rip them out
But they hurt more
To leave them in

But what happens
When the words
To pull them out
No longer heal

What happens
When every mask
Becomes too heavy
To even wear

These things inside
They often hurt
The boxes I keep them in
Are too many to count

So tell me
Someone please
What happens
When I’ve nothing left

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