The first cut is the deepest
The second cut hurts more
The third cut leaves me crying
and sprawled across the floor.
The fourth cut stings a little
The fifth cut brings more pain
The sixth cut bleeds a lot
There is a severed vein.
The seventh shines a light
The eighth beckons me in
The ninth welcomes me home
While it shows it's evil grin.
The tenth cut proves true
And I fall into the light
All I see is misery
There is no end in sight.
I want to meet eleven
And end all that I see
But I cannot seem to move
All I do is bleed.
Soft cries echo in my head
They are calling out for me
I whisper a silent apology
And finally I'm free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem