Blood flows out of
the crevise I have made
Blood is also smudged
on my knife blade
the pain covers up
all of my anger
that I have held inside
it puts me in danger
one cut may do it
but two would be better
or maybe three or four
whatever gets wetter
I like seeing red
cause the more red I see
makes me feel
feel more free
the pain from inside
burns your soul
so on your skin
you make a hole
now with the blood
the feelings aren't as bad
the gloomy ones
like when you are sad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem