Sitting on the curb
Wondering why she does this-it was her
Pale, skin grave
Holding a razorblade
Crying of tears
Mixed with blood
Why was she still here?
She told herself she must
Remembering his arms around her
Said, ' I love you'
How lonely I felt
When he left me with nothing but a pool
A pool full of water
From my tears it formed
A pool of depression at my heart
I'll drown in it while i'm torn
I'm sitting here, at the curb
With my razorblade
He stares at me and says ' you bleed pretty '
When i do nothing but bleed
I turn my right arm over
Let it rest in my skin
Let it bleed until I die
The pain thats in glisten
Despair
Sanity
Anguish
Suicide it screams
Today I die and here I lie
From the wrists I bleed
the heart dreams of Paradise and when that blessed place evaporates such despair seemingly without end but the human was born for joy and thus joy shall return this is truth and not a lie a fine poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem....I really liked it..