Word of advice, don’t read poems online
The ones where self-harm and suicide combine
They make you think, they make you wonder
They make you question whether to go under
But you promised no to your mum and dad
By doing this will make them sad
You reach for the blade in which you will cut
Your leg or your thigh, your arm or your gut
You decide on the leg where no one will see
Although that isn’t certain but it’s a guarantee
The cold steel against your leg makes you cold
The damage it could leave, would be untold
You hesitate for moment and consider your action
But you ignore it all and think of the satisfaction
You caress the blade deep into your skin
Your face is impassive without a grin
You hate what you are doing but you just can’t stop
If only you could switch lives, if only you could swap
The blood starts to flow down from the scuff
But it will never be over, it will never be enough…