Suicidal, depressed, broken, selfharm, dark poetry

I knew someone

I knew someone who hid themselves

Hid behind their great façade

Mastered fake smiles told many lies

Drew things that will never fade

These drawings go unknown

For they held the pain that's hidden

Every drawing has a secret

And exposing one is beyond forbidden

Because no one is ever to be trusted

The drawings were only one colour

A glorious blood red

But with every stroke the pencil becomes duller

But this paper and pencil had a secret

They really weren't a paper or pencil

For these drawings weren't ordinary

These drawings were out to kill

For the paper was their body

And the pencil was their blade

But the artist of these drawings

Wasn't who they say

You see no one knew who they really were

People would never know

At least not until it's to late

Because to them everyone was a foe

They had walls so high

And barricades so strong

And trust they never will

They've been in pain for so long

But it all goes unnoticed

And they soon become numb

Immune to pain

Feeling like meaningless scum

But now inside they're dead

Now just a hollow shell

Of what they used to be

A burnt out star that fell

Now broken

Not able to be repaired

They're about to slip

And no ones ever truly cared

So they ask themselves a daily question

'Why not draw once more?

But this time deep on the wrists

Till I can bleed no more?'

This person I used to know

We were as close as could be

Until I died

And now they're me

Just my hollow shell

With a heart under heavy lock and key

And a mind as dark as could be