That Day.

That day is imprinted on my mind.
I can’t stop thinking about it.
I have ran over everything in my head.
Millions of times.

You knew my ears are always open.
I would listened to you intently.
I would have held you,
Until you felt better again.
I would have lay awake all day and night talking to you,
If that was what you wanted or needed me to do.

Instead you waited,
Until I had left the house,
You took the razor ,
And cut yourself,
I wouldn’t have minded,
But in my room,
On my bed ,
With my arts razor blade.

If I hadn’t walked in,
Would you have cut until you passed out ?
Would you have told me ?
Would you just carry on as normal ?

I couldn’t look at you,
I feel bad because I knew I couldn’t tell anyone,
No one here knows apart from me.
I couldn’t break that promise,
I couldn’t hurt you like everyone else has.

I couldn’t understand why ?
Why my room, of all the room in my house ?
Why my room ?

I knew you didn’t mean to hurt me,
Like you did.
I thought you would have told how you felt before.

And I need you know that I sorry,
Now I understand why.
I’m sorry for locking you of my room for the rest of the week.
I’m sorry for not being to look at you .

I never meant to hurt the way I did.
I never meant for my dad to shout at you for  hurting me.
I never meant for my friends to hate for hurting me.