As the blade drove into my skin, I clenched my fist. I didn't cry, I didn't stop, now my forearm is covered with cuts. I'm sorry for being weak, I'm sorry for failing at this "simple" task. But I'm not sorry for my decisions that lead up to it. And it's not simple to be ever so clean of it! It's hard to stay strong! I fail cause I'm weak and a failure to everyone!! Why should I try? I feel numb and I'm scared to tell someone about them, because I'm ashamed of how weak I am. How has he not left me yet? I keep messing things up for us....
Why should I even try anymore?
YOU ARE READING
My poems
PoetryThese are my poems, sometimes I might put up my friends, but I will ask them and give them credit every time!
