Never will I forget the first time a razor hit my wrist
Never will I forget the blood that shed
Never will I forget how my problems became this huge list
Never will I forget the puddles of red
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I don't anymore, but I went through deep depression, and I've been healing so much, and the twist in the end of this poem is that even though where I've been is ugly and I can never forget that, I can never forget that where I am today is a lot better