It's hard to tell your friends when you're feeling pretty bad
And elaborate on the situations that have made you sad
It's even harder to tell my Father just yesterday I felt like dying
Yet flawlessly and effortlessly I can tell my Psychologist without trying
It's ****** isn't it? That I trust a stranger more than the family
I grew up with, lived with, the worst parts of a better me
Some days I look around and ask myself if I am proud of
What I have achieved and whether or not it is enough
Satisfaction from the parts where I know I've done well
Disappointment at the aspects that will **** me straight to Hell
So I question life, I wield a knife, makes me so depressed I self-harm
So now you know why I bear the scars, up and down my arm
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 8:52 PM UTC
It's hard to tell your friends when you're feeling pretty bad
And elaborate on the situations that have made you sad
It's even harder to tell my Father just yesterday I felt like dying
Yet flawlessly and effortlessly I can tell my Psychologist without trying
It's ****** isn't it? That I trust a stranger more than the family
I grew up with, lived with, the worst parts of a better me
Some days I look around and ask myself if I am proud of
What I have achieved and whether or not it is enough
Satisfaction from the parts where I know I've done well
Disappointment at the aspects that will **** me straight to Hell
So I question life, I wield a knife, makes me so depressed I self-harm
So now you know why I bear the scars, up and down my arm
very true, I try not to lie. I like to think myself an honest man
Request permission to use this poem