All of You Cutter Posers

All of you cutter posers, you say ‘oh look how slow my crimson tears are falling’ you say the blade makes you week, LIES!  All of them, you must have no experience because when the blade hits your wrist it’s nothing but adrenaline, you say you smile at the bloody flow, but I know you can’t, you become numb and can’t feel the dripping, but you stare at your wrist like it’s the blockbuster of the year, and not even then are you drained of the fear.  All the poems stop when the blade rips the flesh, they don’t ever show how much you have to rush, your family’s outside saying ‘why are you taking so long?’ and your coming up with excuses off the top of your head as you stash the blade away, you use your wristband to hide the scars, a fake smile graces your face, you rinse out the sink and when you go out you say ‘oh, I’m just a little tired’, you squint your eyes at the light, and they leave it at that, ignoring the fight that is on the inside, it’s not just about them, it’s about the whole world and what they’ve done to you, your bleeding on the out side, dieing on the in, and meanwhile they walk by, causing just another sin, and even though they can go to church and ask for forgiveness, once you die, you aren’t able to, so you go down with the devil while they, the reason you killed yourself, sit in chairs of gold on the other side of the gates.  Now tell me- have you heard that before?  No probably not, but it’s what we’re stuck with when we loose the fight we fought, so next time you sit bored, thinking ‘hey!  I’ll write about a cutter!’ just find any subject there are many others- why write about us- you say ‘oh what awesome scars!’ why not write about your life- we’re tired of hearing other people writing about ours.