More To It Than Just Me
5 November, 2004
Author: Mere
She takes the blade
Slices slowly
And watches as blood drips off her wrist
She doesn't matter
No one cares
She can't take it anymore
Forget it
Depression could be the best thing for me
Can't get by in this world alone
Her and I both do it
30 times on my wrist
4 times on my leg
It's the only thing I have control of
I don't even have control of my life
Watching blood drip from my wrist is relieving
I'm sick of being the center of f***ing attention
I miss myself
Things got worse last year
First school
Then Jay
Then life
Now me.
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| brittany (24.154.111.213) -- Saturday, January 22 2005, 05:35 am Omg! That poem describes me sooooo good. I cut myself not because i wanna die but because like you said its the only thing i have control over. |
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