Viloence Poem by cheyenne brown

theres alot of vilence as i sit and suffer in scilence one cut leads to many more soon my skin becomes torn i sit and watch the blood drip as i put my hand to my lip just to mkae sure i dont scream wonderin if its all just a dream but i realize its not as the battle insides fought the pain is so real as sad as i feel i wish my heart would just heal but it wont just to many dang times its been broke so the consequences is this and that is the cut of my wrist.