Happiness At The Highest Cost Poem by Victoria Roy

Happiness At The Highest Cost



Those little parallel lines
Short and perfectly centered
DEEP

Proves that I am worthless
And very weak
HOPELESS

But the blood
On the blade of this knife
DARK RED

Proves that
I am good at something
NOT MUCH

This kind of high
This numbness
DEAD

The kind you
Cannot find in a drug
ANYWHERE

Has led me to
Freedom at last

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