Love me,
my razor blade.
Peel my skin,
make me scream.
Sink so deep,
make me weep.
Cut my flesh,
make me bleed.
Take my life,
set me free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Angel...This is not the solution. I understand the need to feel pain. Being left behind can bea lonely place filled with an assortment of emotions. As someone who cares about people, I ask that you find someone (a professional) to talk to about everything that has happened to you in the past while. You've been through a lot. Poems are a great way to get it all out on paper...that's a good start. Hugs, Dee