poems from above

Savior

I once had a little cat

But all she did was scratch me

I named her Saviour

Because the pain gave me relief

Her skin was silver

and stained with red

And she shined in the moonlight

That's when I saw her most

When I wanted to be dead

She mostly came out late

So nobody could hear my cries

Because everyone else was asleep

Not that they would care anyway

Tears would fall down my face

Then she would come out of hiding

And make me feel numb

She would scratch me till I bled

My sheets would turn red

As I tucked myself into bed

But that isn't the whole truth

If you haven't already guessed

My little Saviour isn't a cat

She is a blade or sometimes a knife

But you can't tell anyone

Lets keep it between you and me

I cut my arms and thighs

With savior my blade or knife