_the_girl_who_cuts_

a dark room

this is my life

 

 

An empty room, an empty girl.

 

Sitting silent on the floor.

 

Her sleeve rolled up, exposing skin.

 

She drags the blade and presses in.

 

The pain it brings cannot compare.

 

To the joy she knows will soon be there.

 

It’s worth the scars that never heal.

 

For just a moment not to feel.

 

Just a cut, Just a scratch.

 

“What’s that mark?”

 

“It was the cat.”

 

Just an excuse.

 

Just a lie,

 

“What’s with all the bracelets?”

 

“Just fashion, why?”

 

Just a tear.

 

Just a scream.

 

“Why were you crying?”

 

“Just a bad dream.”

 

But is not just a cut,

 

Or tear, or a lie.

 

It’s always “just one more.”

 

Until you die.

 

Scars on your soul.

 

Scars on your skin.

 

Some on the outside.

 

Some are within.

 

Some have a story.

 

Some are unwritten.

 

Some you can see,

 

But most are quite hidden.

 

Hush little baby,

 

Don’t you cry.

 

Don’t cut your arms.

 

Don’t say goodbye.

 

Put down the razor,

 

Put down the knife.

 

It may be hard,

 

But you will win this fight.

 

From darker clouds,

 

And blackened skies,

 

Through deeper scars,

 

And all your lies.

 

She cried.

 

She wanted to die.

 

“I am fine”

 

She lied…

 

 

 

She\'s always just been that random girl,

The girl who always gets judged,

The girl who is always by herself,

The one who gets left out,

At home there\'s always yelling and arguing,

Eventually she started using knives to get relief,

But the relief goes away quickly and leaves scars,

She always stays in her room,

She tells herself that nobody loves or understands her,

She pulls out the knife from under her mattress,

She starts wearing long sleeves everyday,

To hide her scars,

Now she\'ll just be that random girl with scars,

Now if her parents found out she\'ll get judged more,

She starts feeling like a mistake,

That she was born at the wrong time and at the wrong place,

She’s all alone in her room,

She’s crying herself to sleep,

All these thoughts in her head,

She closes her eyes,

Ready to give up on everything she writes her mother a letter,

Saying that she\'s sorry and that she\'s just a mistake,

She was born at the wrong time at the wrong place,

Not to worry I’ll be watching you from the clouds,

Just look up at the moon and you might see me,

She finally stands on a chair with a rope tied around her neck,

The chair falls,

Now she\'s breathing her last breath,

Meeting death,

Meeting darkness itself,

Then her mother walks in her room,

Seeing her daughter hanging there so pale,

Now nothing can change what she just saw,

Reading her letter she says,

How is this fair?

After 16 years of having her daughter she never noticed how depressed her precious daughter was,

 But now it’s too late,

Now she\'ll just be known as the vain random girl with scars,

The girl who commit suicide

 

 

 

Suicide Note. 
I want to start off by saying 
Thank you to those who have 
Made an impact in my life. 
But, clearly you didn\'t make 
That much of an impact if
you\'re reading this. 
If you\'re reading this know
That I had the utmost love for 
You. 
But I am hurting. 
Hurting a hurt I have never 
Felt before. 
A never ending hurt. 
I\'ve tried taking medicine but 
The hurt continues. 
You can not help me. 
I can not help myself. 
My thoughts have officially taken over me.
My thoughts have been turned into actions. 
From the day I was put on this earth, 
I knew I was not meant to be here. 
The auras of you people ring like
Sirens in my ears. 
All Ive senesced is bad. 
All i\'ve seen is bad. 
All i\'ve done is bad. 
So with my pleasure & dignity. 
With all the pride I have left in me. 
I am here to say it\'s over. 
The pain & suffering from 
Something I can not describe, is over. 
The torment of my own thoughts, will be over. 
Thank you for discovering this. 
Thank you for reading this. 
Know that my soul will linger on
& you will never be alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suicide isn\'t a bad thing
People say it is
But they don\'t get it.
It is on many people\'s minds
Whether they like it or not.
So if it was such a bad thing 
Wouldn\'t people be mad 
If you were to tell them?
That you didn\'t want to breathe?

It isn\'t a happy thought
Suicide 
But people still want it.
For some it is scary
But for others
It\'s a way out.
For those that act
on this thought
we mourn for them.
Yet we want it more
because they are gone.
We are too blinded by sadness
to see the pain
of those around us.
Suicide is not a bad thing
neither are the thoughts 
But if we act on it
and breathe one final breath
we don\'t get to see
the pain that we cause.