I sit here now listening,
Listening to the screms of anger,
They frighten my my mind.. To the point im curled up in a corner,
Crying pointless tears,
As I sit there, I slide the shiny sharp object across my wriste,
A red stream of blood runs down my arm, I still feel nothing,
NOTHING only numbness, I slide it across again harder this time,
I breath in quickly, sounding like a hiss, it stings I can actually feel.
A dark smile spreads across my lips, but know it looks more like a sneer,
I take my tongue, that has said words that mean nothing to them. and i clean myself up
Can't get it on my clothes don't want to upset them..
The taste of the red liquid is rusty at the back of my throat..
If you Only Knew
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem