I am not happy.
I am not glad.
I am lonely.
I am sad.
I sit on my bed, alone I cry,
As I whisper my sad lullaby
I slowly press a blade against my wrist
As I count my scars I cannot miss
They bring back tales of misery. And dark days I was doomed to see.
Then I stop and think of you
And the promise that I made to you
I then cry in pain
As I remember you were just the same. You left me here to rot and die.
You left me here to scream and cry.
I slowly drag the blade against my wrist. To leave another scar I will not miss.
Written by Domlixalot
A/N: Hello everyone, Cierra here. Go follow Domlixalot, the writer of this beautiful poem. SHe is an amazing writer and I hope you enjoyed her poem as much as I did.
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Self Harm Is A Silent AddictionPoetry
This is a book filled with poems, short stories, songs, and writings about the silent addiction that is self harm. Some are written by me, some are some I found on the Internet, and others are some that people sent.