Holding the blade between my two palm's,
i stare at it for a moment or two,
If it wasn't for this i'd be happy meaning nothing to you.
As i bring the blade up to my wrist, I close my
eyes as my skin ripes,
blood drips down,
my once bear arm,
I fall to the floor,
my blood starting running through the door,
so I cut myself some more,
and my heart,
it's left so sore,
I cry myself to sleep,
feeling so hopeless and so cheap,
your love,
Its my-heart disease,
and now you no longer mean anything to me...
What did you think
Comments
-
This is really deep. I love it. I love emo poems for some reason, probably because i get how it is. im emo and i constantly cut myself. this is really good.
-
wow this is so kool i know how u feel i can fell the emotion in this popem nice i love it
-
intense
what dpresses can avruy by person...bu that i depressesa nd lead too cuts is more depressing for all..this pem is so welld one on it. thanks for sahring.please visit em and comemnt me as well.
Adding your comment:
