Poem
She's proud of herself
but she won't explain why, it's been almost a week since
she last even tried. But the voices don't stop and today they
won, will she go for a razor or end it with a gun? After hours of
crying and arguing with herself, she gives in and opens the box
on her shelf. Overwhelmed with emotions she selects her blade,
oddly delighted with the chouce that she's made. So once
again she takes a razor to er vein, and without even flinching or
feeling no pain. Well, there is pain but it is mistaken for
praise, she is lacking in judgement because of her daze. She sits
there emotionless, blood pouring from her wrist, giving in to the
feeling she's so long resist. A smile crosses her face as it
spills down her arm, she's caught up in the evil we know as
self-harm.
Self harm awareness.
Wish I knew who wrote this :T
TheMorticiansDaughter* · 1 decade ago
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reply
that's how i was last night...