suicidal thoughts poems

My blade

Hidden under the sleeves, are my scars.
They feel like prison bars,
I'm just a lost soul,
Seeking a hand to hold.
Patiently waiting for someone to say,
There's no need to be afraid.

The hoodies I wear cannot be replaced,
They hide the pain and make me feel safe.
Yet some eyes find their way,
Making me feel like a volnerable prey.

Invisible , some people can't see me ,
But to me their all I see.
The scars may hurt and are done for a bad reason,
They make me happy even when I'm bleeding.

You may find it funny, my most precious item,
It helps me cope with life and deals with my problems.

My blade, it's so sharp,
A hint of light and it glistens in the dark.
My blade, it's so light,
Take another cut, I just might.
My blade fills me with bliss,
As I gently pull it across my wrist.