Dark Room.
The bathroom is my dark room.
The blade at my waist.
I slice the skin until I bleed.
And Bleed.
And Bleed.
And Bleed.
My hands shake,
the tears come.
I tell myself how horrible I am.
Horrible daughter.
Horrible lover.
Horrible friend.
Horrible person.
I take the pain and hold onto the thought.
Maybe this punishment,
will teach me not to be so horrible.
But of course that never helps.
The tears fall down my face.
The hunger hits my stomach.
Then hits my head.
I push back the pain.
And think of the weight I need to lose.
more tears.
more pain...
Reality settles in.
The blade goes in my pocket.
I wiped away the tears.
Walk out to the world.
Holding back my fears.
I gulp down all my problems.
and say farewell for now.
YOU ARE READING
A Dance With Darkness (Poetry of Teen Depression.)
PoetryJust some situations I have gone through and are still going through written down in my thought process.
