Just one cut,
During the night,
Crimson red that feels so right.
Drops that last all through the night,
Your only friend,
A shiny knife.
The ones you love,
Only judge,
so no one knows,
The horrible curse.
You start out young,
Then move on,
The marks are deep,
The scars are long.
The ones that stop you,
Care the most,
The ones that don't,
Just let you go...
You try to stop,
But thoughts come back,
You mark again,
It's not your last.
You are the smart,
You hide the marks,
Beneath layers of cloth,
In hidden spots.
The very next day,
the thoughts come back,
It starts all again,
the marks are back,
that forever last
Only some,
Who truly know,
The life of having a horrible curse....
When I start thinking about a subject too much I write poetry about it. This is an unedited poem I wrote a little while ago. I know some people who are going through it and some people who aren't here anymore because of it. So I wrote a poem because it's on my mind
