Misconceptions of self harm

This poem was written to make those who have prejudged think again.

An empty canvas; Ill paint it red, with
Wasted blood that pours from my head
And bleeding wrists that are easily read

Did you hear that sob? It was not me
Id rather carve my trouble for all to see
Then I can be judged for my shameful deed

I am soiled, impure, and rotten to the core
I self harm for attention, its not even sore
I enjoy hacking away at my flesh with a saw

I like being depressed, I want to die!
Self harm does not make me feel a bit better inside
I am just working up to my suicide

I revel in the way they whisper and stare
My emotions arent mine; theyre for all to share
I intended for someone to see it, I swear