Suicidal
I slice my wrist in the same spot
Opening and reopening the same cuts repeatedly
People say I’m crazy, but I promise I’m not
Just suicidal
At least I think I am
I’ve been to depressed to even know lately
Feeling alone and scared
Feeling hurt and not cared for
They say sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you
That’s not true
Sticks and stones don’t break your bones
They only create small bruises
Words, they cut like a knife
And we say things we say we don’t mean but we do
Everyone else was thinking it anyways so what’s the point of lying
Calling someone fat
Means they are in fact fat
Calling someone stupid
Means they are in fact stupid
Calling me worthless
Means I am
So not meaning things is not existent
It is not true
And we may think that there are good people in this world
And there are
But the truth is in the end everyone is going to hurt you
Some will destroy you
Others will be like a rip of a Band-Aid
In the end everyone hurts you
But you get to choose who will hurt you
And I chose myself
And so I do
I cut
And cut
And cut
Till my wrists go sore
I chose myself
