A paper being

Razors and claws, talons everywhere
Grasping at my bare skin 
Tearing off my flesh with every new word
Your tongue like ice to a struggling fire like mine 
All around a blizzard sets in
Making my skin paler, more fragile, easier to draw the satisfying red from my veins
This is what they want? Isn’t it?
For me to bleed
To live up to the contrast that is blood and fire on the days fresh snow
To add to the wounds that create a kaleidoscope of colour on a blank canvas
Make me bleed, attack again
Oh words as soft as snowflakes cannot heal my broken skin, the cuts so deep I feel them with every breath
Cuts from my own misadventures, cuts from phrases that penetrate my weak mind and heart
I am weak, left out in the snow 
I feel everything 
Every drop of icy rain burns into me, and again I am too sensitive for this world

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