I cut my wrists I cut it clean I cut it deep to show u what I mean my wounds heal but the scars are always there I'm sick of life I'm done with the hurt will anyone ever see what I'm really worth? I cry my tears on the inside my eyes are to strong to show my pride is to high to show I'm low.... my story is on my wrist my story is something u can't read my story is no fairy tale ill fall asleep go into a deep coma when I leave don't cry when I leave know I tried
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem