Mom, do you understand?

Mom,

You have no idea
You don't no who i am
So you better read this closely
or you'll never understand

All these cuts
You see upon my wrist
Aren't from accidents
I made all these slits

All These bruises
you see on my arms and head
Are from no one but my daddy
Who wishes I was dead

All these poems i write
And you find inside my room
Aren't imaginary Mom
I really want to die soon

All these bracelets i ware
Aren't just because i like them
all these cuts and bruises
Daddy wants me to hide them

All this makeup i ware
Isn't to look pretty
its to hide this ugly side
I don't want anyone to see the real me

The collection of scissors
i hold inside the bathroom
aren't for what you think
But look at my wrist see where pain takes me too

This gun in my hands
Is really to kill dad
Wishing he would stop this
hoping he wont get mad

Now you have the idea
This is who i am
I'm tired of all this hiding
Now you perfectly can understand.