I sit on my bedroom floor.
I cut and cut.
I think would anybody care?
I need someone.
Someone, to tell me they care.
I look at my arms.
I look at my scars.
I cut more to ease the pain.
I want someone.
Someone, to tell me they love me.
I laugh.
I, will always be alone, feeling my pain.
My pain, that can't be healed.
I think of ways to kill myself.
I won't feel my pain anymore,
No one would care.
I go to the medicine cabinet.
I take all the bottles of pills.
I opened everyone of them.
I ease the pain.
I, slowly but surely, am no longer feeling my pain I once felt.
-Krystina Crim (aka me)-
