Emily said:
Here are my scars
Most of which you can’t see…
People ask me why
But truthfully I don’t really know
When I’m alone
And my life overwhelms me
I grab something,
Anything to serve the purpose
To bleed…to bleed out the bad blood
For it must be me who is messing up
Not you guys
No, not you.
(This Poem is based off of another that was in a book I read....The poem was written anonymously by a sixteen year old and was printed in the book Ophelia Speaks by Sara Shandler. This is a twist on that poem./ December 7,2006)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem