My fucked up poems

For real this time

*TRIGGER WARNING*

Please DO NOT read If you self harm.

*You have been warned*

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I stand in front of the wall covered with holes. my memories from today, yesterday, a few weeks ago, a month ago, and a year ago rush through my mind. From the first time my dad ever hit me, to the last. From the first time my mom cussed me out, to the last. To the first time I ever got bullied to the last. (which was a few hours ago) To the first time I took a fist against the wall, to the last. To the first time I put a blade against my skin, to the last. And to all the times I said "this is the end" but never actually did it. I go back to reality and decided to go straight to the cutting. I sit on the floor and put down my right sock. I cut once, twice, and until the tenth time I stop. the blood is gushing out. I ran out of space to cut on the right leg so I put down my left sock and start cutting there. I make 30 and stop. I let the blood come out. I usually run to the bathroom and try to stop the blood, but I don't. I start thinking how my mom never notice my blades on the nightstand or the blood on the walls. How my dad never notice the scares in my wrists. how they never actually cared. And I remember how I got my heart broken by the girl that I liked since forever. I finally get tired of it, I get tired of EVERYTHING. I make a big slash on my arm to my shoulder to my wrists. then I say to myself 'I'm going to end it .... For real this time.