this is a wicked sad poem, life of a cutter
A hard day,
Some more insults from my friend's,
Tears rolling down my cheeks,
Wanting it to end.
None of them understand,
They all pretend to see,
That what they are doing,
Is not hurting me.
Deep, deep down inside,
Is a feeling that i dread,
The feeling of the deepest pain,
but all those things they said.
they say I'm fat,
They call me a s_UT,
yet the expect it to bounce off my back,
But now I'm stuck in a rut.
in the dark of the night,
down my damp cheeks roll the tears,
When all this has finished,
in their heads are silent cheers.
I've been hiding this for months,
but now it's all too much,
I pick up the razor I was hiding,
it is such a rush.
Blood drips onto the floor,
but I just don't care,
Because this feeling is so good,
Like there's something else in there.
But this time it's for real,
not like in my dreams,
This feeling deep inside,
Is better than it seems.
This is my life,
What happens every day,
When all those things lead to this,
there is no other way.
For this is the life of a cutter,
The feeling I love so much,
The life of a cutter,
this is my life as such.
Blood stains my life,
But I just don't care,
Because this feeling is so good,
Like there's something else in there!