(may 3rd / milwaukee)

What do you think this poem is about?

DEATH please

A scratch on my face.
Im bleedy and it is running done my face.
Warm and thick.
I don't clean it up I let it dry and sit.
It is sick I am sick.
My mind is full of thoughts of dieing why not who will miss this?
I bang my head on the wall and love the throbbing pain,
It excites me.
I brake my leg on purpose to watch my bone pop out.
It hurts so bad but I love the pain.
I drag my self in gravel as the small pointy rocks puncture my fragile skin.
Scorpions and tarantuals surround me putting up there army of poison.
Knowing it is my time but it just wont happen.
Looking for anyway out is there an out or am I just stuck?

Submitted: Wednesday, August 22, 2012


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