At first I didn't know why she was so sad.
I remember at 2AM, I saw a slit on her wrist. I tried to stop her, but she told me her skin grasped for it., when she did it, it made her feel better.
Since then I started to observe the little things that happened in her life.
It was June, the sun was steaming hot.
She wore a long sleeve shirt that day because she wanted to hide the abundant amount of cuts that gathered on her left arm.
She was so beautiful, I admired who she was.
And so, on that day in June I rolled up her sleeves and kissed the vulnerable cuts on her arm.
Suddenly tears trembled from her pale face- sad face.
And so I told her, "I'm here for you no matter what. You're the blood that rushes along my veins, you're beautiful and I'll love you no matter what."
YOU ARE READING
You Don't Care.
Poetry"There is nothing to writing, all you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed."
