The razor blade held to his wrist shows pain,

mourning, and anything else. 

You see, he just wants someone to understand him,

care for him, and love him as their own.

His mother and father argue over the tiniest things.

 

Cut one starts, he doesn't feel the relief yet.

Peers and students tease him for being bubbly and happy. 

 

But no one has seen this dark and twisted part of his mind.

 

Cut two stings just a bit, a sting from a wasp. 

 

His friends don’t care, they have their own mediocre lives to deal with.

 

Cut number three murders the emotional pain.

 

No one cares that he does this.

 

Everyone presses on in their own lives,

 

paying taxes and making love.

 

 

He grabs his father’s pistol from under his parents’ bed.

 

He writes this damned letter, and then pulls the trigger.