Here I go again,
I'm going to the bathroom, to do what
I usually do when I have a bad day,
I need this pain to erase what had happen
I hide it under my sleeve so no one can see
But sometimes it's more than a bad habit,
Sometimes I do it when nothings wrong,
It'a now my curse ritual that no spell can stop it
But sometimes I try not to do it
but deep inside I want to feel the pain
and see the river of blood running down my arm
I hide it from my parents and from my friends it was
my own hidden secret
I have a disease of being depressed
my soul sings so much sorrow
that sounds like a siren screaming for help
So I let the knife befriend me and let it cut this skin
You should see what's under my sleeve,
villages of scars and cuts that stop continuing to heal
Brown skin now withered away and filled with
dark gashes with only sleeves to hide it
'It'a now my curse ritual that no spell can stop it' You can do anything you put your mind to. You are definitely strong enough...stronger than any spell. Just look inside and dig deep and you'll find it.
I no how you feel im not gonna sit here and tewll you to stop becuase id be a hypocrit good poem. it really hit home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good poem, kinda frightening..but very good. i'm speechless..this memory that stains my mind of the scars the run along your arms..~hazel