Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2014
Don’t tell me being numb
hurts less than a scar.
Don’t tell me feeling nothing
hurts less than a bruise.

After a while nothing
is, but not caring
turns to more pain
than you can imagine.

The only reason not to feel
is because of pain.
I’m told to feel nothing
because words don’t hurt.

Words hurt more than anything
the names I was called
changed who I was
and still hurt now.

You may say it once
but I repeat it.
over and over
until I believe it.

It turns to reality
my whole life story
'till it’s all I see
when I think of me.

And you can say it’s me
who picks up that knife
to hurt myself
but it’s not my fault.

It’s your words
that lift that knife.
And it’s your words
that put it in my arm.

And it’s your words
that I repeat
as I search for death
in everything.

It’s your words
that make me hate me.
And it’s your words
that made me this way.

Your words
take the form of a knife.
The knife that hurts me,
The knife I now need.

And I stand here
wondering how
you could possibly
not know.

Am I really that good
at pretending I’m fine?
that the words you’re saying
aren’t cuts in my arm?

Or is it just
that you don’t care?
That I’m really a no one,
just like you said?

Because to myself
I’m just your insults.
I’m just what you call me,
a person to hate.

All I am is your cruel words.
Written by
Swetank Modi  Kolkata
(Kolkata)   
311
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems