We sit in a circle.
Clasp together our hands.
We sing many songs,
With unknown bands.We talk about life.
We talk about pain.
We talk about the fate,
That was born to be lain.Then I look around.
It's only me here.
Then the screaming begins.
Bringing me fear."Don't forget to smile!"
"Cut some more!"
Horrible things in my head,
Make me slump down to the floor.I look towards the knife.
It's the only way.
I grab it and slice my wrists,
And the pain slowly goes away.But then they get loud again.
What do I do?
I cut deeper.
What's it to you?Who cares about the screams,
That are heard from my bedroom?
Who cares about my demons?
No one knows my doom.I'm at my end.
I've reached my limit.
Love, please save me.
Before I commit.Commit to what I told myself,
Back when I was 8.
"When I turn 18,
It'll be too late."My demons are stronger than ever.
Slowly bringing death upon me.
Why does no one notice my pain?
Can I even be saved from this misery?
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Poems For the Damaged and Broken
PoesíaThese are all written by me. Some may be triggering.