A/N...FML
I scream as pain tears through my chest.
I am unsure if this is the pain of a panic attack or my heart.
Probably my heart 'cause it was just ripped from my chest.
FUCK IT ALL! I scream.
I roll from my bed and wipe my tear stained face,
grabbing my blade and putting it in its rightful place.
I slide it across my skin pushing in deep.
FUCK IT ALL! I scream.
I want to be dead
Please I'm begging you to fucking kill me.
Pull the fucking trigger and blow open my head.
FUCK IT ALL! I scream.
Tears run down my face like the blood on my arms.
But to me the blood needs a to be a thicker stream.
I push it in deeper and drag it across.
FUCK IT ALL! I scream.
I'm so tierd of this fucking bullshit.
I'm starting to loose count,
hell who am I kidding I lost count a long time ago.
I lost count of the days and time.
I lost count of how many people cared.
Oh wait,
no one cares.
I continue digging the blade into both my wrist and thighs.
Man I love this high.
I look down at the small puddle of blood that has formed.
I smile and look at my blade before putting it away.
That's all for today.
So long and goodbye.
Question of the chapter: My mum __________ my spaghetti O's so I __________ leave your answers in the comments.
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The struggle
ПоэзияThis book will be made up of a collection of my works, written during a period of time in which i suffered extreme depression. These poems will talk about, anorexia, bulimia, self-harm, schizophrenia, anxiety, and a few other things. If you or anyon...
