A friend likes to cut beneath the veins
How can she do this to herself, she said she can’t feel the pain
She started cutting more and not talking to me
She can’t possibly really want to die, I refuse to believe
I can’t stand this sh*t any more
But she wants to be set free
All she does is cut, cut, cut; she likes to see her sores
Why can’t she see? !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem