I Miss The Razor Blade Poem by Melanie Weeks

I'm seriously regretting
The promise's I've made
To some important people in my life.

Cutting is somewhat of a missunderstanding,
That alot of people do.
Pople who don't do it,
Just don't understand.

It's like a relief
From emotional pain.
To feel it physically.
To give it meaning.

One smooth cut,
Maybe two more.
I've promised too
Many people,
So I don't wanna break it.
But, to think,
These are some of the people
Who've hurt me everyday.

Cutting isn't all that selfish,
If you think about it.
As long as you
Cross the street,
You don't die.
Your family and so called friends
Don't miss you,
They aren't hurting.
They don't have to pay,
The stupid funeral costs.

I miss the razor blade,
It's hard to keep my promise.
It's so hard,
But so far I've kept it.

Three of them that I've promised,
Two hate my guts now,
Dout they'd care anymore.
Mad at the last,
Jon still cares, though.

Theres another that's the
Reason I've stopped,
But now he's also the
Reason I wanna
Start back up.
He accuses me
Of stealing Something
Of great importance to him.

There's no way.
He was my real best friend,
I'd rather die
Than to take it.
But here I am,
Unable to convince him.

I miss my razor blade,
Jon made me toss them away.

I miss watching my pain come out
In little red dots.
I miss the fact that
It was easier back then.
One or two slits,
Then I'm back in the game.

Cant do that anymore,
I could, but I'd break
That stupid unselfish promise.
And I hate breaking promises.
Hate making them too.