Cuts

Look at my skin,
So ugly, cut up, sore and full of distaste,
So much blood ran out,
And it all was a waste.

Look at my room,
my counselors office, the bathroom, the school,
As soon as they left,
I became such a fool.

Look at my things;
The pin from the ribbon I work so hard to win,
Is that why I train,
To cut up my skin?

My scissors,
Look at the crimson tears that fell,
Upon this tool,
The one I know all too well.

My razor,
I didn’t use you in so long,
We united again yesterday,
Why can’t I be strong?

My badge,
It created a rash of pain,
I just did not learn,
I had to cut myself again.

Why did I do this?
Did it take away the grief?
No, it made me hurt more,
There are even marks from my own teeth.

Is this attractive?
No, blood is not,
Pain is not,
It looks cruel,
Am I trying to punish myself?
No but I’m a fool.

I did something stupid…
It hurt me, it made me hate
and now I realize it’s so dumb,
Cuts are there, it’s too late.

*** Yes I cut myself it was dumb, I already regret it. ***
By Mistaken Identity 2005