Here I am again,
writing these ****** poems
trying to find a way to get out how I feel.
But nothing really works..

I drowning in front of everyone
Who claim they care
My legs are bleeding from the pretty little marks
left from a ****** blade and a twitching hand.
Tear-stained ,puffy cheeks and mascara smuged
glossy eyes
Begging for someone to show they care

But who really does cares at the end of the day?


My mind is racing with ****** up thoughts
And merciless images of my body lying there..
Or hanging there.

****** wrist hanging over a once innocent white bath
now a pinky stained colour.
Drip drip drip
it rolls of the lifeless fingertips
Splasing the grey floor
The noise taunts my ******* mind
Begging me to run and do it

Knuckles all ******,broken
A dented, freshly painted red wall
Another impulse
caused by the anger pulsing in my veins.

But who really cares?

No one ******* knows how bad it's got
They all think it's all okay...
Now don't get me wrong
I've screamed for help,
begged like a ******* dog.
But like I said...
Who the **** really cares?

I'm drinking my life away
Clawing and carving my skin
To help the pain
I've planned it all
Just waiting for the right moment

I don't want to be saved
I don't want love
I don't believe in hope
Not anymore

So I'll sit here for now
Writing these ****** poems
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting


For the right moment to go
When no one is watching the little girl in her room
with the craved up legs and a broken smile.
She will, I will disappear into the night
Into deaths welcoming arms
Once and for all