I wrote on myself last night

I wrote the words

                                                          Vile

            Broken

                                                                                            *****

                                            Alone

                      Ugly

                                                                             Fat

                                                    Pale

     Stupid

                                                                                     ****

                              Inferior

                                                                                                            Lonely

                 Sad

                                                          Awkward

                          Weird

                                                                                        Worthless

I wrote them with sharpie

And then I took my pocket knife

Freshly sharpened

And I cut the words into my skin

I cut lines across my thighs

And I watched all the ink sink in

"They say that ink poisoning can **** you

Well, welcome death

To my body. To my temple."

That's what I said

Later, I got in the shower

And I scrubbed off the writing

I scrubbed until my flesh was raw

There was even a little more bleeding

I marked DAY 3 off the calendar

And I went to bed

This morning I woke up

I plastered a smile on my face

And prepared for the day

To see the only one who makes me happy

And keeps me sane

At least when he is around

Soon I'll go home and do like usual

I'll pull out the sharpies

And again I'll sharpen my pocket knife

I'll make a long list of words

And I'll repeat the night before

But tonight I might not cry as much

Even though the pain will be 10 times worse