cutting self-harm depression
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When someone sees my locked notesThey assume I’m dirty minded Or my notes are filled with funny quotes
They don’t think I’m anywhere near bad
They don’t know how many knifes I have
At sixteen, we start to take shape,
solidifying morals, values, goals.
Bodies changing: gaining weight —
One more, this time deeper,One more, I don't know why,One more, to hurt less yet more at the same time,Lost in a maze of cuts and bruises,unable to find my way out,
I’ve always wanted to be a magician
Always wanted to make things magically disappear
Just like when I saw a man place a sheet over a woman
One thin slice and only one, one last time and then I’m done.Blood soon beads and spills out red. Five more seconds and I’ll be dead.“I don’t want this,” I try to say.I don’t want my life to end this way.
The Words of a Faggot
Imagine a boy
Now imagine him tall and stocky
Just a little bit cocky
Think of him in a letterman jacket
The feel of the sharp blade against my skin
My heart pounding with anticipation
My fingers eager to do what I've already done
My mind knowing there's no going back
Push it down
Harder
Feel the burn
Linger
Open your mouth
Silently
Make the mark
Again
Take away the
Confusion
Un-cloud your
Thoughts
Forget the emotional
Pain
