Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
She takes the blade to her wrist
And without regret,
slits it to her skin slowly.

She cries.

But she doesn't feel anything.
No remorse.
No regret.

Her tears were nothing
And she felt bad about it.

And the worst part of it all,
No one sees her.
ezra
Written by
ezra
317
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems