What I say: I'm not hurting myself because you don't love me. I'm hurting myself because I hate me.
What I mean**: Please come back and love me so I can stop hurting myself.

I saw your wrists in the Sky this morning,
Planes trailing white lines above my frosting breath.
They scarred the flawless blue expanse,
Marring it with imperfection.
Beautiful, wonderful, perfect imperfection.

Wrists were not made to be cut open,
nor hearts sown back together with words
of yet another "soul-mate."

Your life was not supposed to be so torn up at the seams.

I am as blue as the apparent veins around wrists,
My life is as colourless as my pale body.
My mind as dark as my pitch black eyes
My soul…I don’t even think I have one anymore,
It’s been stabbed, crushed, broken,
set on fire too.
dismantled like my scared body.
nature reflects the feelings.

Slit my wrists
What happens next?
The blood drips down
On to my desk

The pain feels sharp
Inside my mind
It clears my eyes
No longer blind

The world is clear
I'm able to see
How people can show
Such cruelty

Why stay here?
There's nothing left
And nobody cares
About my death

So I deepen the cuts
Lean back in my chair
And fade away
'Cause I don't care

it's eating me
destroying me
complicating me
making me wonder
"is it?"

grabbing me by the wrists
grabbing me by the hair
grabbing me by the neck
grabbing me by every piece

every nerve
every cell
every single bone
every bloodstain

it's taking over me
and I like it
I enjoy it
and I don't want to end with it