My Eight Guides To Suicide

My tears show the suffering
That i can no longer hide
They show what words can't explain
I can no longer keep them inside

The scars on my wrists
Show not physical but emotional pain
To wear it on the outside
Shows what words can't explain

The bruises that cover my body
Show my step-fathers short fuse
Purple, black and blue
The colours of abuse

The pretend smile on my face
Is there only when others are around
But when they soon dissapear
That smile becomes a frown

The Burns on my neck
Are those of a rope
They show how much i understand
That for me there is no hope

The alchahol stains on the carpet
Show signs of temperary relief
For a short time my pain is at ease
But this time is very brief

The music playing loudly
Drowns out my screams and cries
I'm not sure who they're directed at
But that's okay as no-one replies

The gun i hold in my hand
Is soon against my head
I can't Take the pain any more
So pull the trigger and am left for dead

*-*the poem above reflects my life and some of the stuff iv'e done and gone through, the only bit that isn't something i've done is pulled the trigger...yet.*-*

any title suggestions i think you might agree this one sucks