Feelings to deep,
emotions run wild,
my hearts to weak,
I cant hold on,
please just try to help me,
just one more day,
will you be satisfied?
my love to give is to weak,
the tears about to run dry,
with you now knowing,
I try to be normal,
but the smiles they're fake,
nothing could ever just go my way,
and still I turn to the useless knife,
the one that shines so gentle in the palm of my hand,
I don't know what to do anymore,
but still I ignore,
the thoughts that are running through my mind,
yelling that everything that I do it wrong,
but when I press the knife firmly to the core of my skin,
I know that this is going to help me,
it will help keep me strong,
and oh but not to worry,
because I can hide all my pain away,
as the cuts they just make a little scar,
a permanent incision,
one for every person who's hurt me.. one cut was for you,
but there are many more to come,
for I am only thirteen years young,
and with every cut I make.. I wonder,
why not just end it now..,
just get it over with,
but then again I want to make it hurt,
I want to feel every last amount of pain I deserve,
and until the day I die,
I'll will act like every things just fine.
*this is one of the first poems that i ever wrote, and i think that it isn't my best writing but its OK. if you would vote and comment it would mean a lot! thanks-katelyn*
