Poems For The Broken

I am a razor by: paigethepisces

I am a razor

Everyday around quarter to three,
You burst into the bathroom searching for me,
I get hidden by your mother while you are away,
Hidden,
Unused for most of the day,
I feel your anger as your hand grips me tight,
Im the one and only thing that helps you sleep at night,
I live to put scars upon your fat thighs and wrist,
I leave my mark I am proud of this,
I watch as the beautiful red pattern drips,
And runs off the end of your fingertips,
What possesses humans to act like this,
To scream, cry, cut there wrists,
But for now my job is clear
The reason I was brought here
To relieve the pain
To sit by the window and watch the rain
Until everyday quarter to three
You come to the bathroom looking for me