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 *******
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 sunday night
Because they knew they couldn’t make it through
monday 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 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
I don't know what the **** I was on when I wrote this
