When I was in 6th grade,
I thought it was cool,
To sit around and do nothing.
Internet was my hobby,
Role play was my sport.
But the drugs and the cutting were the most fun I got.
I'd wait when I knew no one would knock,
Open the the box, slide out the pills.
Whatever there was, I'd take it and laugh,
And nobody knew of my act.
I'd cut my wrists slow and fast,
Not too hard, and not too deep.
Just enough to cause scarring,
Physically and emotionally.
The drugs then vanished,
And crying I'd do each night.
I wanted to end it all,
Cause I thought I was nothing but an ugly sight.
Though I tried, I would never succeed,
And still no one found out my little scheme.
Two years later, and all they know about is the cuts,
I still feel screwed up and like I am nothing to the world.
I think I am imperfect,
Yet everyone has their times.
I regret my mistakes,
And the stupid things they've made me do.
Author notes
we're all imperfections, face it
I wrote this thinking "Wow".
A contest entry
- Every Part of [im]perfection by WishMeAway--x.
550 points, ended June 24, 2007, 19 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
"wow" also for me to great imagery here.
You are very talented at poetry.
good luck and best wishes
xo
kandy -
yeah...wow for me too.
♥
=]] -
yeah i read this htinking wow too..
Adding your comment:
