Every morning is getting more and more difficult to wake up
To open my sticky eyes from the last night's tears.
Feeling like I'm so close in giving up
Almost ready to get rid of all my fears
My smile is growing wider every morning
As the last day with the last hint of pain is coming
So while I'm in school
I keep telling myself "hold on it ends soon"
And every time I am about to go home
I stop in a corner to spill my teardrop
In my secret isolated place
Nobody's there to see my face
I can cry my heart out
While no one's around
I can use my lovely blade to draw on my body
A world that only I seem to notice
Cutting strings to feel alive
One, two, three, four, five
The boundaries seem to fall again
Six, seven, eight, nine and ten
The wind is blowing hard
Signaling its time to head back
Sleeves down, coat on
To go running home
'And before you ring the bell...'
'Oh yeah! The gloves check!
Put on the mask, the one with the smile
Take the stairs to avoid the mirror and everything's gonna be fine
Step first and I'm inside
-"How's your day" and now I lie
- "Just fine"
Running to my room and hide
More tears and sorrow, but I have to be strong
Heading for the bathroom, locking the door
I'm thinking how awful I am
Short, ugly, useless and FAT.
Washing my face I look at the mirror on the wall
And right then slightly crying, I collapse on the floor
What did I do wrong?
Always having to fall
But as a worthless, stupid girl
Suffering this torture and pain is what I deserve
And after all these when the night finally comes
I'm all alone again surrounded by guns.
Bigs, smalls, visible and not
Each one has at least of a shot
Thoughts firing from morning to night
Leaving me weak without hope or will to fight
The blades are working mainly in the dark
When the lights go off and everyone takes their nap
Nobody's here to ask
To look me in the eyes and give me a hug
No words, just that
Before I go I need to feel this warmth
And that is why I'm spilling my blood so the cold will go away
And the hatred for me for a bit will fade...
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Can Kill
PoetrySome random and depressive thoughts. Cause when I'm feeling down poetry is my way out. Work of an amateur... First attempt to publish something as personal as my feelings.