God, I want to cut
so,
so
bad.
I want to cry
until my eyes are dry and red.
I want to scream
until I go hoarse and lose my voice.
I want to stand out in the snow in nothing but a T-shirt
until my limbs go numb.
I want to stand on hot coals
until my feet are blistered and burned.
My veins pulse through my forearms
practically begging me to scar them
even more than they already are.
I want to cut.
God, I want to cut.
But what I want even more is you,
so I don't.
YOU ARE READING
My Voice Through Poetry
PoetryDepressed + gay = poetry 🤯 ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: including (but not limited to) self-harm, abuse, mental hospitals, eating disorders, and suicide.
