It's pointless to hurt me, I do that to myself, I've gotten better and better at it, I'm an expert now. I bet you won't even know how to bring me pain, you're just starting out, but go ahead and try, I'm used to it by now. Tell me how I'm pathetic, cutting myself, tell me how insane and stupid I am, hearing the voices, tell me how I'm an attention whore because I cry and feel, tell me to go away and leave this world that I know isn't real. It's a facade, tell me I'm wrong, push me and shove me, tell me to take my life, then hand me a knife, it won't be long. See? I'm great at hurting myself, hiding out somewhere and cutting my pain out. You see I'm not looking for someone to save me, if I was I'd tell people I need help. But That's not the case, I know the honest truth, I am nothing to fight for. I am nothing of use.
YOU ARE READING
Misguided
PoetryDark poetry, self harm involved. Yes, most of my poems rhyme if not all of them. I like it that way. Thanks for reading. And don't plagiarize. © All Rights Reserved
