poem 2

82 2 0
                                    

I'm sitting here

on my face are

these tears,

no one understands me

i literally have to

plea for attention

my friends and my

family are no were

to be found

my weight carries

me down,

130 pounds

my heart is pouring out

but all i can do is pout.

i look down at the knife

should i do this or call it a night?

my heart pounds

when i reach,

not going to practice

what i preach

the blade teases my skin

5 cuts later maybe ten

i clean the final cut

and feel the relief

i stare at the scars

my eyes hard as stone,

my moms knocking on the bathroom door

i shut my eyes

and count to four

and clean everything up,

the pounding is harder now,

pow pow pow

the tears have stopped

 the blood is more.

i walk out the door,

bearing these scars

and more

~unknown

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