You don't understand.
The cuts on my wrists,
The scratches on my arms,
You don't understand.
You might not feel the tugging at your life force,
Every single second,
Without stop,
But I do.
You don't understand,
Why I do what I do.
You grimace and shriek at me to stop,
But I cannot.
And you cannot understand why.
It is not my place,
To know the pain you've suffered,
Really, I know nothing about you,
Just as you know nothing about me,
So I cannot sit here,
And tell you you don't understand,
But if you do, you never show it.
The blood is a distraction,
From what you call 'my life',
From what I call 'my hell',
The pain hides secrets I wish to forget,
Stowing them away for all eternity,
It also created new pain,
So I know longer have to suffer,
The agony that clutches at my stomach.
Don't sigh,
Or roll your eyes at me,
You just don't understand.
And if you do,
Why do you never show it?
YOU ARE READING
My voice in a world full of panic (poetry)
PoésieIn a world of political madness and anxiety at school, this is MY voice My way of getting my opinion heard. #7 in darkpoetry 3/2/20 #2 in wattpadpoetry2020 2/2/20
