Cuts Poem by rita soto

From start to finish I wonder why
The cuts look good in this messed up lie
The blood that trickles down my arm
People all stare at the girl who self-harms: -

'The emo' they call me
I turn to my name
They act out slicing their wrists
I hang my head in shame
I can't help my feelings
Of being alone
I hide myself for the day
Just longing to go home
I sprawl on my bed
With my razor in hand
And take myself away
To a much better land
I stare in the mirror
And let myself cry
Looking forward to the day
That I finally die

Source: 'The Emo' They Call Me, Emo Poems http: //www.familyfriendpoems.com/teen/poetry.asp? poem=25906#ixzz0p4NMK3YD