It started with scratches and fear.
You said it would get worse from there.
I didn't care but you held my life dear.
You made me promise, never to cut.
I agreed but doubted myself.
Scratches turned to scrapes,
And fear turned to numbness.
I disappointed you, I disappointed me.
This is not who I wanted to be.
Scrapes turned to cuts.
Scissors turned to blades.
Promises became irrelevant.
All that was there in the end were blades and broken promises.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Poems
PoetryMy poems about depression, self harm, suicide, anxiety, and anorexia. Things I think about. Maybe a glimpse of what runs through my over active mind. Anxiety is probably the reason I have these thoughts. I write them down just to write them down. Ma...
