I soothe my tattered soul with my blade,
When will it pass, this depressing phase?
The tip of the knife opens my skin, I feel the burn.
With joy I watch the blood run.
Should I just slit my wrists and end it all?
Or continue on my knees in shit to crawl?
The temptation is forever there,
But do I dare?
To take my own life?
To end this fucking strife?
The rivers of saddness remain forever open,
And so I just keep hoping,
That one day I will go too far.
And the blood of these silent screams will not stop,
Till I am dead and just drop.
hello everyone….this is my first entry, and my first time here….and I’m going to post up my most recent poem….I wrote it about a week or 2 ago right after I had cut myself some….and it’s about cutting yourself heh….it’s called….My Silent Screams Of Blood