Blood drips from my wrist
A pitter echoes as it hits the floor
The red liquid spreads and I go again
Deeper
Longer
Harder
Stinging with pain I continue
This hurts less than my body does
Hurts less then my pounding head
Hurts less then my constantly breaking heart
This is pain I can control
I choose where is goes
How bad it hurts
When I stop
But the scars bring a New level of pain
Grueling embarrassment
Fear of being caught
Anger for succumbing again and again
I don’t think about the future now
Blood drops from my wrist
A pitter echoes as it hits the floor
The red liquid spreads as I go again
And again
And again
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Author:
MKL (
Offline) - Published: April 10th, 2023 22:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
How depressing.I really struggle to see the purpose of this writing.
I was thinking the same thing, and you probably know this but slitting your wrists is a common form of suicide because that's where some really thick veins are, so you bleed out. But seriously the guy who wrote this poem, if he actually feels like this, needs some help.
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