Why does she hate me?
Why doesn't she love me like the others?
I ask for one thing you see
She laughs and says no, oh mothers.
Now all I want from you, you see is,
A box of razor blades to go to deep
A gun to put to my head
A rope for around my neck
A bottle of pills to swallow
I just want to be dead don't you see?
No, because no one sees the hurt, their just like the others.
Turn their cheek to me,
Their just like mothers.
YOU ARE READING
Emily's journal
Poetryamazing poems about life, cutting and hope written by Emily an amazing person and one of the best writer i have ever known (not written by me)
