you never cut any deeper than necessary
you dont want to die
just feel the throbbing pain, drain a little blood
nothing that could do major damage
you dont want to rely on sharp metal for your problems
but you keep running back to it like an old friend
you feel so guilty when your friends tell you how glad they are
that you arent 'one of them'
but you are
you feel like such a dirty liar
you know something is wrong but you just wont stop
a little blood wont hurt anything will it
especially when everything on the inside causes
so much more damage
you make yourself sick to your stomach some nights
those still forevers tossing and turning, every new position
seemingly worse than the last until you bleed it out
bleed it out falling into a state of numbness
in a sort of grey toned world
heartbeats slow, eyes glaze over in draining
and you fall asleep crying, knowing that tomorrow
will be exactly the same
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem