a dark room

_the_girl_who_cuts_

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.

 

  • Author: _the_girl_who_cuts_ (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 17th, 2018 18:59
  • Comment from author about the poem: this is my life
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 28
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Comments +

Comments6

  • _the_girl_who_cuts_

    this is my life. my sad depressing life

  • Finley Fire

    Very well written, if this about your life right now, I hope one day you write about overcoming this and live a full life, hugs from Finley

  • Snowflake Incorrigable

    Stop for just a second, just stop, now think of malnourished kids in Africa and India, no food, no loving parents, hot abandoned , unloved, hungry, hopeless. I could give you more examples of real suffering, hopelessness and life' cruel dispositions. Thank your stars and promise henceforth you are going to be the clever bright, positive, friendly and happy person you are meant to be. Namaste!

    • DeletedAccount

      Saying someone can't be sad because others have it worse is like telling someone they can't be happy because others have it better. Think before you say stuff.

      • Snowflake Incorrigable

        If your understanding is a bit more matured you will see that I did not say you can be sad, I am saying that things could be worse and there are others who even have it worse than you. I was only trying to lift you and make you see the positives around you, I am sorry I bothered now. It is actually you who hasn't thought rightly about what you read and can't see positivism anyway because you are so caught up in yourself, which now easily explains why you feel the way you do. Please go away and don't contact me again.

      • _the_girl_who_cuts_

        the picture at the top r my scars

      • SLR

        I hate when someone says that they know how someone else feels if they have never been there themselves. They don't. I didn't do the cutting very much because it didn't help or make me feel better. At all. So what would be the point? I have tried suicide several times. I know you probably don't believe it right now, but it does get better. I had to be out on my own and grown. In charge of my own life before things got better. BUT they DO get better. If you haven't tried talking to someone you trust then you should try it. It helps some people and you won't know until you do, but be sure to trust in someone that you admire their life choices and you know they will give good, solid advice. I relate to a lot of what you've written. Please, please, get help. I left home at 17 because I knew I couldn't go on much longer as I was. It was a miracle that I was still alive that long. If you ever feel enough trust to talk to me, then please let me know. I know what it's like to be dying inside and my family not even realize. To hurt so much for so long that death seems like a welcome escape. Please talk to someone, soon.

      • orchidee

        So I say sensitively - you're still here? i.e. if you are commenting in replies!
        Yes - do find some help. Even if one says 'There's people worse off than us', we may still have our own particular problem or situation.



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