They whispered to me
They want me to do it
They tell me it's fine
I pull out my blade
And see how it shines.
They tell me I need it
That I'm nothing and worthless
I run my fingers across my arm
With one final purpose.
They whisper words only I can hear
"You've been without your drug for just over a week."
I grasp the cool metal
Allowing my razor to speak.
They taunt me and tease me
And this time it went to far
I used to hesitate at first
But I found comfort in my scars.
They won't catch me tomorrow
I won't feel a thing
My blood runs cold from my broken vein
I feel the pain begin to sing.
They did it this time
They put me to sleep
Slowly I lose consciousness
Because I cut too deep.
YOU ARE READING
The End
PoetryPoetry and short stories I've written about the suicidal, bullying and self harm. No graphic content. Co-written with casually_crazy. TRIGGER WARNING
