Suicide4514

Tearing myself apart

A sob escapes from me as the blade cuts into my skin.

 

The pain is sharp, cold, and it stings.

 

But,yet, it feels so very good.

 

I promised I would never do this again.

 

But, it makes me feel better, I don't feel angry, depressed, stressed, I feel absolutely nothing.

 

I would stop if I could.

 

I don't like being depressed.

 

Sad constantly while everyone is happy.

 

I cry for no reason. Guess that's why I was called baby.

 

Cutting became my guilty bliss.

 

It helps me cope with the abuse from my family.

 

So tired of the telling and screaming. Constantly hit by mom and daddy.

 

My blood is pooling beneath my wrist.

 

Its not large but I feel so cold.

 

I'm shaking wishing for the comfort of warmth.

 

As tears of pain, joy, and sadness roll down my eyes.

 

I've wanted to stop but I need it.

 

Ill die, that's what I've been told.

 

Countless times I wished for death.

 

I scream but no one hears my cries.

 

My heart is beating slowly.

 

My hand grips the knife.

 

A friend who has always been at my side.

 

The blade is cold the edge is sharp.

 

But, in the end it hurts me badly.

 

Knowing one day I will take my life.

 

I've lost count of the tears I cried.

 

I'm slowly tearing myself apart.

Comments2

  • Brittany Jo

    I’ve always felt my best pieces come when i’m writing from a darker place. Sometimes being straightforward brings a lot more power, too. Great read. X.

  • George C. Biester

    No need to try to make you feel better, thats why you write. At least its why I write. Its therapy when there no ear for you to speak to. Well written and expressed. Hang in there and keep writing.



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