I want to write a
beautiful poem
to tell you
I'm going to
**** myself.

But there are
No words
beautiful enough
to describe to you
the way
I'm about to die.

I hope
That you do not see
The faint lines
On my wrist
Or the sadness
in my eyes,
Because
I don't know
If I could
Explain
Why
I want to die

I sit and wait
Wait for this mental suffering to end
For someone to tell me it'll all be okay
That someone doesn't come
The thoughts do
You can end it all
You're pathetic
Worthless
No one cares
But I know I shouldn't end it
I want an eternity, though I know I don't deserve it
But how do I escape this?
And there's my familiar friend
Sitting next to me
Beckoning me
To press his blade into my skin
To make my mental pain physical
To make myself bleed
I pick him up
And listen to him
I let out a few sobs
As my blood runs down my arm
But I quickly shut up
Someone might hear
I wipe my tears and blood away
Walk out of the bathroom
And smile through my pain.;

These cuts I make
Are small compared to my real pain
My wounds go deeper
Than any blade can cut
And they leave bigger marks
Than the simple scars
Blood flows out of my wounds
Yet I live on
My heart still pounds its steady beat
Even as I scream
My heart cries out for help
As do my lips
I will continue to cut and cry
Until at last I die

Those urges,
For the blood.
They make me go crazy.
It kills me.
I want to cut.
I want to bleed.

Seeing his body lying before me felt unreal
If I only knew of the pain he would feel
As my shades shades the rays and hides my sobbing gaze
Never would I have thought to see this day
Tears fill my eyes as I hug his mother
He use to be like my blood,my brother
She says "His saddness is at an end."
The pain is indescribable watching them bury your oldest friend.