I was going to write a sad poem with beautiful words
Beautiful words to tell a horrifying truth
I was going to write something worth reading but none of my shit is worth reading anyways
So fuck the poem I could have made
Fuck the beautiful words to make the shit seem less shitty
Fuck cushioning the blow
Tonight I took the exacto knife hiding in my room
Now when I walk I struggle to not grimace or limp
I have bandaids on the three worst cuts
I deserved this
I hate myself for eating
I want to drink
I dont want to be aware
I want to smoke
I want to die
Fuck life
YOU ARE READING
Blood Stains
Poetry*trigger warning* I'm lost•I'm broken•I'm hurt•I'm sorry ~the ones marked "x" are about my struggle with food and eating~
