A-cutting and a poem

The last time was the last time

And it doesn't even know it

Later will never be

— a manipulator is utterly exhausting.

Tho cuts run deep,

no tears nor pain at loss.

The mask of pretending, discarded.

Today.

This is it.

The end!

Farewell to the departed.

Fare thee well…

That part… ne'er do well.

What was bloat above,

Is the same lie that sinks below.

Already buried

life-less

…and forgotten.