1..
2..
3..
It slices through me,
4..
5..
6..
It's blurry like the river Styx,
7..
8..
9..
You were never benine,
10..
It was never up to you,
We repeat the words we hear,
11..
Until we believe them to be true,
We can't help but to believe,
12...
You ment it as a joke,
I saw it as reality
13..
It was never common decency,
Only a game to you,
14..
Deeper,
15..
Deeper,
16..
More,
And more each day,
17..
Never able to stop until it's all gone,
It's sad to say but only true,
18..
Not everyone thinks we belong,
Hear it enough and we tell our self we do not,
19..
We lose friends,
Families,
20..
At first we don't believe,
Then we start to see,
21..
It's all that we are,
We tear ourselves apart,
Piece by piece,
22..
To the point the blade we find,
23..
Becomes our friend,
Our savior,
24..
Our...
...
... Escape
25..
Our only salvation,
26..
It's carves the purest of skin,
And breaks the purest of hearts,
27..
Each cut made,
No matter how many it takes,
It won't be enough,
28..
Until it all ends,
We paint our pictures,
For our canvas is the skin on our body,
And our brush being the blade we carve with,
And our paint being the blood that pours from each cut made,
29..
With each one made we write our apology to our family,
With everyone that heals,
We say goodbye to another battle we survived,
30..
Soon,
It becomes a habbit after the first is done,
We want it to all end,
So we dig deeper,
Finally...
Our vision begins to blur,
We finish our apology,
We lay back and relax,
Letting everything grow,
Peace flows over us as our vision becomes no more,
Finally...
We are no more,
We feel at peace,
Free from pain we were caused,
But no the ones who loved us have a greater pain of their own from our loss.
If only..
I didn't make the first cut.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
Poetrythis will be a collection of my poetry. Each one will have different lengths. I will try an update a new poem every day. Not all of them will rhyme, or maybe even rhyme a little. I hope you guys enjoy reading it.
