Poems

Scars

     The pain, too much to bear,

     My head, it aches with noises around.

    Food no longer has taste.

     How long has it been since I was happy?

     I feel so fucking alone and sometimes I believe that the knife is my only friend.

     I'll have a cigarette or two.

     If it kills me, oh well, its just a few years early.

    Our lives are a waste anyway, or, at least mine is.

     I slide the razor over my wrist, watch the skin split open as red comes oozing out.

     Pain. That is what keeps me going, lets me know I am alive and not some numb, emotionless creature-

     Or maybe I am. Some heartless beast, who deserves to die.

     We all deserve to die. I go to church and hear them talking shit about others like me.

     I wonder, how can an all-loving God hate people just for who they love, what gender they are, what their political standpoint is-

     I give up on him. I drink to rid myself of my pain.

     Life is so tiering. I add another cut, deeper this time.

     Light headed, dizzy, my thoughts spiral.

     I'm alone. No one cares.

     My friends are faking, my parents hate me, I'm shit at school-

     Add another slit.

     I have a terrible attitude, and a talent for pissing people off.

     Three more cuts, no longer coordinated, spelling a word now.

     It's been so long since I've eaten, and the hunger pains are just starting to hit me.

     5 more cuts. A word appears, to join the others scattered around my body, some sewed up.

     HEARTLESS.

     It's true isn't it, that's what I am?

     The blood continues to flow, not stopping.

     I'm gone, and all that's left of me are my scars.