There is a secret part of me,
Which I don’t want others to see,
I can’t count all the nights when I cried,
Because my self-hate is killing me from the inside.
When people ask me how I’m feeling I lie,
Replying, “I’m great” though I just want to die,
I want to see myself in pain,
I know it’ll calm me, again and again.
As I feel the blood trickling down my arm,
I look at it like at a lucky charm,
I think about all of my mistakes,
And my whole body shakes.
I say that I got in a fight with a monstrosity,
Felling my self hate growing with more ferocity,
I’d love to tell the truth to anyone,
But they’ll turn their back on me like everybody.
I am stuck with someone I hate till I die,
And what people ‘know’ about me is a lie,
I want to kill myself, for this I ache,
But I won’t do it, for their sake.
A poem of despair told with eloquence. You are special and worthy, Paulina. Thanks for sharing. Peace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Almost every body has something he wouldn't like to share with anyone, some of which he/she likes to do away with but finds it difficult. You write beautifully well. God bless you
Thank you c: