Fuck, fuck, fuck
I did it again
Though I swore
Not to put the knife to my skin
I couldn't help it
I just couldn't help it
All this waiting for someone else
Just didn't help shit
But it felt good
The steel an my arm
feeling the blood drip
My bloods so warm
I loved it
it was such a rush
So I did it again and again
I just couldn't get enough
I can't stop
I can't put the knife down
I cut and tears fall
but I don't make a sound
I don't yell
I don't scream
I cut and tears fall
And I just watch myself bleed
YOU ARE READING
Diary of the scarred
PoetryOkay. I tried to do a normal poem. (Well at least what what I think a normal poem is.) Now I'm doing this shit my way. If its not what people would call a poem...then fuck' em. I wanna vent and this seems the best way for me. So...yeah. Enjoy.
