Can You Tell Me How You'd Feel?


If I were to harm myself 
can you tell me how you'd feel? 
Would you feel ashamed of it, 
of how you made me kneel? 

Would you see how wrong it was 
to pick on me that day? 
Or would you just go shrug it off 
and turn and walk away? 

I tried to pretend you weren't there 
that you weren't being mean, 
but when you pushed me down real hard 
my hands began to sting. 

You told me I was worthless 
that there was no point to live, 
so now I'm listening to your words 
and it seems so hard to forgive. 
I hear you call me names all day 
at home I hear it in my mind, 
you never see the cuts I make 
to try and get me out this bind. 
It's so hard to forget the words 
that you like to make. 
I can feel them pierce my heart 
as it begins to ache. 

I have to deal with shoving 
and pushing happens too. 
It gets so bad I have to try 
to stay home with the flue. 
My parents ask me what is wrong 
I'm ashamed to tell the truth, 
so I hold it all inside 
while I begin to hate my youth. 
I'm sick of it, today I'm done 
so here is my appeal 
If I were to harm myself 
can you tell me how you'd feel? 

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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