Everyday when I wake up,
I think about my urge to cut,
I cause myself pain everyday,
But sooner or later, I will not be o.k.,
Just one of these days I will go too far,
And that cut I make, will not only leave a scar,
I will wait for that day when I go over the edge,
That day when my mother will find me dead in bed,
My sheets will be soaked by blood I know all too well,
When I realize how far I've gone, I will begin to yell,
But my pleads will do no good,
For I've lived in this pain for as long as I could,
And just as I take my final last breath,
I will know that now I can finally rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this poem. It really describes a lot if you know what I mean. Well if you ever need to talk just let me know.