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by Kisa Jun 24, 2005 category : Sadness, depression / lost relationships
Every day you see my wrist, With many cuts engraved on them. Each scar reminds me of my life, Painful and hard to live through. So low of blood I try to sleep, Trying not to die. Even when I know, I am destined to go. I'm sorry to you I'm sorry for me. I cut myself with this knife, With many blood dried on them. Oh I feel so dead, Even when I know I breathe. My cuts... so painless, Yet many cry. This stupid death of his, that made me like this. Cutting myself, And crying to sleep. Trying so hard to be with him, Yet I know I'll never be. I lost him once, And now forever. Never knew how much it hurt, The cuts on my wrist made. With these cuts engraved on me, Shows how much I care for him. My cuts... with many meanings, Stabbed unto the bleeding wrist. I try to die with one last cut, Yet I never see the blinding light... (I finally found the rhythm to this poem and realized I should continue it because xtine convinced me on the comment she wrote before.)