Poems

Worthless

*Warning, if you don't think you can deal with depressing stories, people doing selfharm, or death do NOT read*

By Irene Huebra Garcia

Have you ever felt that pain?
That kind of pain that you hide from others,
The pain that drifts inside you,
And destroys you to your deepest?

Not the physical pain necessarily,
Not when you break a bone,
Or when you scrape your knee as a child,
But when you feel like you don't belong,

Like you were a mistake,
Or you think you're alone in this,
Cruel world where no one understands you,
Or when you hurt yourself,

When you start to damage yourself,
You get a hold of something sharp,
You're crying rivers,
Sitting by yourself thinking...

I'm not worth it,
I'm a nobody,
I should just kill myself,
And you run the sharp blade,

Through your skin,
Tears spilling everywhere,
You did it,
You self harmed,

Your left arm is now dripping blood,
But you don't really care,
You get the blade and run it again,
You keep doing it,

'till there's no more tears left to be shed,
You clean up,
You hide the blade for future use,
And you sit there staring at the floor,

Thinking to yourself again,
No one can see this,
No one will know of my pain,
I'm worthless anyways, why would anyone care?

You count the cuts on your arm,
13,
Your new lucky number,
You promise yourself

You will only do it when you're at your lowest,
A few weeks go by,
You haven't cut since,
You restrain yourself from thinking about it,

As you open your locker a piece of paper falls to your feet,
You pick it up,
It says...
You should kill yourself,

You put it in your pocket,
Tears threatening to spill out,
At the end of the day you get home,
Neither your mom nor dad comes untill later in the afternoon,

You take the note from your pocket,
And you set it at your nightstand,
You find the blade that you hid under the table,
You sit on your bed,

Tears spilling onto your rosy cheeks,
Small sobbing noises come from you as you try to stop shaking,
You grip the blade and put it above your scarred skin,
This time you slice a long line sideways on your left arm,

You do this multiple times,
Deciding to stop there and move to your thighs,
You cut long lines along both of them,
You stop for an instant,

Breathing heavily you get an idea,
Dried tears on your cheeks are replaced with fresh ones,
You take the blade in your hand and you move it making angled cuts,
Some shorter than others,

When you're done,
You can see a word clearly cut on your right thigh,
You start to clean up when your phone buzzes,
It's a text message,

Who would text you?
You see it's a group chat
With the numbers of the "popular" girls at your school,
A long time ago, probably in elementary

You had been friends with all of them,
They still had your number,
Strange,
The "queen" texted first,

Hey (Your/Name),
Did you get the note?
Leave me alone, you responded,
Ha! You think you can run away that easily?

You turn off your phone,
But the messages keep coming,
Each time you glanced at them,
You see those hateful words

You'd thought to yourself so many times before,
Ugly
Fat
Useless

The ringing stops
You open your eyes,
You read the last text they had sent,
If I were you, I'd kill myself

That was it,
This had been going on for far too long,
You stand up and take a piece of paper and with a pen wrote,
Dear mom and dad, I'm sorry, I love you.

You set this on the coffee table,
You get a rope,
Tie it on a hook on the ceiling,
You get on top of a chair, the rope around your neck,

You look down,
You look for any reason not to do this,
For any sign that everything would be alright,
But you find none,

You push one foot back,
Making the chair loose it's balance,
You drop down,
Your last breath on your lips,

The breath scapes never to return,
You're there,
Until your parents get home,
They see the note,

And race upstairs to your room,
Your mom stops cold,
She breaks down crying,
While your dad comforts her,

They call the police,
But before they got there,
They noticed your cuts,
And what you had written on your right thigh,

It said...
Worthless