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To Girls Whom Cut Thy Wrists

Penetrating deep, thy poem cuts my heart
Bidding adieu, my love is cut apart
Teeming down thy lines, my love is found anew
For every cut thou make, is a line inherently true.

With each swift cut, a pain of heart thou make
In each move, my loving heart thou take
Sweet girls who slice thine own wrist
All that blood my heart shall dearly miss

To each permanent scar, with this poem's potency
My love's lips sweetly kiss
To cleanse thou painful mar and
bring back thine soul amiss!

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Added by Poetry Lover
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