Once, my mom asked
To see my arms
Because she thought
I was cutting myself
She never saw them
On the outside of my arm
I cried in the shower
That night
And swore to myself
That I'd never do it again
But I lied
I always lied
I continued cutting
Just not daily
And I felt even emptier
And emptier
Until even the letters
From the word empty
Could no longer
Fit in the tight fist in
My stomach
I found a whole
New world of empty
Nonexistent
I learned that there
Are things you don't say
You don't tell people
That you cut yourself
Because they assume
You're crazy
When you're just sad
You don't say that
You don't feel like going
To a party
Because then you're lame
But really, you're just sad
You don't say
That your parents
Hate each other
Because then, you're
Just a broken doll
Living in a broken
Doll house
With two parents
Whose porcelain doll
Faces are cracked
Straight through the middle
When really you're
Just sad
You're sad and tired
I would never say
I'm suicidal
But you don't have
To say it
YOU ARE READING
Lost Words
Random"If you don't say what you feel, you'll forget how to feel." A book of poems. All of which are mine.
