I sit alone in my room nobody knows what I do. I'm just so broken and bruised my friends notice it to. If they could feel what I feel or take a stroll in my shoes. Then they would understand but they just don't have a clue. These people call me Bitch, loser, and make me mockery. Cause I don't look or act like the girls that are popular.
When walkin' the halls I feel like everyone's watchin' me. It bothers me so much resulting in loss of sleep. I feel lost & alone and that's why my wrist. Has cut scars on every single bit of it. I feel worthless so I wanna' hurt this. Joke of a body they say belongs in a circus.
It's not for attention it's more of an addiction. I wish there was a medicine to rid me of this sickness. I've been searchin' my purpose for a long time. And I don't know when I'm really gonna be alright.
I don't wear long sleeve shirts in the summer time. Cause I don't care if anybody sees my cut lines. Even though I haven't in a little while. Every day a little more I'm learnin' to love my, Self for me but I can't block words they call me. There are thousands like me I'm part of an army. If you take a look around it's rather alarming. How many people are actually self-harming.
Don't you get it its deeper than sayin' don't do it. Some days I wanna' fade it's like I'm not human. This is harder than it looks for everybody going through it. I hide my pain away and make it fade into the music....
