I feel the burning on my arms from my bladed friend
I watch as blood seeps to the slits in my skin
I sometimes look forward to that certain pain
That only I can control
It kind of feels good
I don’t know exactly why it happens but it does
I hate that no one truly knows who I am
My heart is slowly being torn apart
I think that’s why I look forward to that small little blade
In a way it helps ease the pain
I am shaking as I set down the blade
Not from the pain but from the ease of pain
It feels good
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
when the going gets tough....the tough gets going......