Slits

The numbers grow.
First there where 3,
now there are 5.
Tomarrow there will be 8.

Each day I wish to stop,
but things get worse and worse.
with no one to tell your problems to
I mus rely on other resources.

1,2,3,4,5 slits across my left wrist.
Why doesn’t she love me…
6,7,8…
I can’t take it any more…
9,10,11…
some boby please save me from my-self…
12,13,14…
does any body care…
15,16,17…
the emotional pain is killing me…
18,19,20…
not the physical pain is…
21,22,23…
my heart is gone…
24,25,26…
I gave it away…
27,28,29…
and is was ripped a part…
30…

I have scars from a former love….
that was so great that it almost killed me…

By serj

i love death and darkness. if you have any good darkness or death poems send them to me!