The life of an emo...
Can anyone other than one of us understand our pain?
Our need of secrecy?
Sometimes,
it's all we have left
beside the cold blade on our skin.
We feel it cannot become any worse
but, by assuming so we have only worsened it.
If we let our secrecy slip,
allowing that last little bit of sanity to slip away...
Everyone stares.
Looks at you like you're insane,
not right somehow.
But, truly
the only thing wrong with most of us,
is our mangled hearts.
But if it's in the dark...
They stare at you and whisper about you...
As if you weren't even there
like you couldn't tell
as you feel their eyes burning into you,
that their whispers were centered
around emos
around you.
All we have
is the cold blade on our skin.
This is true. very true. you make me shiver every time you mention the blade..i havent cut in about 3 months, it's so very tempting..
seems like i have somehow got to know a bit about emos through this one..... nicely written.... ;)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the felling of my blade is the only thing i have left that i can feel 10+