Is There Any Hope For a Cynic?

Numbr1SNSfan Poems

I cut tonight I will cut tonight i will see the Blood fall off my wrists as I slash another ripped, into an Open wound as big as my thumb this time I will Be able to understand why people feel upset When they are not in control because I think that Not being able to dictate the feelings and cries inside your Head and body might just be one of the worst Things to ever experience in the whole whole wide world I need to have the ability, the option, the privilege To know that at any moment when i feel too much Or connect a dot that should’ve stayed broken up I will be able to create a new idea in my head To drown out the others out out out out out out! They shall leave like they were never even meant to be there ever in the first place. I I I I I I I I I I see inside my wound, I made that wound And there are bubbles of fat that have sprouted, bubbled Out from the LESION the deep deep F U C KI N G Blood red destroying sharp loud LOUD cut If I stuck my put my finger onto the LOUD loud cut It would squish under the pressure and secrete a Liquid that should be kept inside my body But always seeps out the edges of my ears I never seen the back of my neck but I always KNOW that its there, if I turned far enough around I might be able to see it Thought, if I’m hanging far above, on the edge Of a bridge or a tall tall prickly tan twisted rope I do not miss the time when my skin was kept Together by the skin of its teeth if I bit into my arm How hard until I break into blood banks for it How how how how how much have I sinned If others are normal unLIKE me, have they ever Thought of tearing into their skin one ssunday night Because they knew they couldn’t make it through mmonday if they weren't hurt and bleeding out all day? Should I answer the questionnaire honestly? How many times have I c c c c c c c cut? In the past year, or twelve months, to be exact? Zero, that's ideal, one, that's no fun, two, so, have you? Three, wish that could be me, four, not high enough To score, five, a time to strive, six or MORE, forever on, I've known I've done it still I answer the big none, the big O O, Zero I can’t even count on all my fingers and all my toes how many times I’ve picked up the it There are less scars on my body Than times that I’ve cut, cut, I've cut, cut…cut I know everybody wants to get me, they’re out, out They have all given me looks on, on, my wrists They all all think that they wont ever fall, stoop, to my Deep dark dead dying destructive dragging level But in the end its all up to fate and angels up above To decide who out there will find a sharp object And learn to know its name, better than their own