charity.

it feels like blood;
you hear the
needle as it
scratches and tears.
an eery silence;
what are they
thinking?
watching, smiling,
facilitating the
life draining
from their veins.
what if we
needed that?

my mind is
being mined,
like the blood
on a counter;
countless vials
and endless
tourniquet.
halfway there
and already
i am tired.
they break me
over and over.
why not finish it?

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