You Know

She cuts herself... You know, to feel the pain.
She asks herself, "Why?" as it's starts to rain.
Tears are falling from her delicate eyes,
Like raindrops falling from the clear, blue skies.
She hasn't got a valid reason for her self-inflicted pain,
But she wouldn't stop if you gave her one, anyway. 
Throwing her bag to the floor, she climbs onto her bed,
Taking off her jacket over her small, slim head.
She then searches and searches, to find what she needs,
You know, that thing, that makes her skin bleed?
She smiles as she finds it,
It was hidden under the cover.
"What would I do without it?" She asks herself in wonder.
it glints in the dim light, making her grin,
"Oh, you priceless thing," She says. "You're not a sin."
As she starts to 'paint her picture',
Her blood get's richer.
She sighs in relief at what it brings,
And then makes another ring.
Hours later, she stares at her work.
What has she done? She is such a jerk!
More tears start to leak from her eyes,
Her blood dripping on her bed like little flies.
She cries and sobs and screams and kicks,
Until she feels she might vomit like sick.
'That feeling is back,' She thought, a sudden pain inside,
'It will never go away, no matter how hard I try.'
No one cares, no one knows;
Even if they did they never let it show.
But how could they? She hides it very well.
The pain and suffering and scars she tells.
If you had asked them, "What is she like?"
They'd reply, "Oh very happy and loud and very very bright."
But in truth it's none of those things,
None of the things mentioned; no, she doesn't bring.
She is desperate and sad and hopeless and lonely,
She wishes, "If only there was someone to hold me."
She get's up from her soft, plush bed,
And walks over to her bathroom instead.
Looking in the mirror, what does she see?
"Ugly and hairy and a troll, that's me."
She tears through the bathroom, not caring about the mess,
All she wants is that bottle that say "Keep out of reach." instead.
You know, that thing, that will take her away?
The one that will end her suffering and pain?
As she finds what she is looking for, she smiles sadly to herself,
"I shouldn't suffer anymore, but I don't need anyones help."
So unscrew the cap, she does it quick,
Dropping it to the floor with a loud CLICK!
Her body slowly sits down on the floor,
As she swallows those little things of hers.
When it emptied, she threw it across to the wall,
And the dragged her knees up so she wouldn't fall.
But she is falling quick, her eyes falling shut,
Her body sags but she doesn't give a...,
A empty shell of what she used to be,
Bloody and empty and oh dear me!
But somehow she looks better, better than she's ever been,
Her skin is shallow but her face is serene.
You know, that thing, that she always felt?
Yeah, that one that made her harm herself?
Well, it's gone now and she's at peace,
But not her family, as they call the police...

This was written by me and was made to express what cutters and suiciders feel like, but also highlight what happens when you take actions on your own. Yes, i have actually thought about suicide but my brother always pops into my head. He can't understand what had happened if I killed myself. Hell, he would probably find me and think I was sleeping! I stay because I think of how my mum would have to explain to him that his big sister would never be coming back and he couldn't tell her about school, about Thomas the Tank Engine; couldn't discuss Harry Styles and his curly hair with me, could never play cars with me. He would never be able to sing really loud and badly with his sister, or have her give him another hug. He would never be able to give her a sloppy kiss or joke around with her. He would cry and scream because everyone would say, "She's not coming back." and he would be saying, "Why not?". And then eventually, he would find out the real reason and he would be mad at me. He would be mad because I left him alone and could never help him with friends or girlfriends or take him to his wedding. He would never be able to give my boyfriend the "You hurt her, I hurt you." talk... He'd hate me and I couldn't bare that thought.
What about my best friends? They would probably be devastated. They would hate me too. I couldn't do that to them, no matter how much I want to go.
So, even if you haven't got a mum, dad, sister, brother, friend or some else, think about how that impacts the people who will find you and will have to tell their family members what happened. How you came in, pale and dead with no heartbeat and found out you killed yourself. They may even have a kid you age and they might cry. Cause trust me, they may have never met you but they would have cared about you more than anyone else in the world.
I do.