I tried mend the wounds you made,
But they're deeply cut and will not fade,
Fingers stuck down my throat,
And pills sit next to my death note,
Anger, Fear, Sadness, more,
I don't know how much more pain I can endure,
'It'll just be one." I tell myself,
But soon the razor has cut more than I can even count.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe it Will End
PoetryWARNING TRIGGER Just a collection of poems that are written about self harm and depression. All poems written by me unless said otherwise Cover by lilydawnxx
