A Wrist, A Razor and All The Problems I Was Trying to Run Away From

If you look at my wrists they are scarred
I know that cutting makes me feels true happiness but it`s not really there
Afterwords I`ll be left with a wrist, a razor and all the problems I was trying to run away from
But I know I can`t run away from myself

It`s not like I wanted to die
I just wanted to escape
I know what happens when things get out of hand
The cuts get deeper
I`ve seen it happen
Then you get hurled face first into a reality like hell
But then you have more problems
As if cutting was supposed to help

So naive, so again I pull out my trusty friend
That is eating away my heart and my skin
I scrape it again against my skin
It leaves a mark
Should I cut deeper?
I can`t, I won`t
Because it shows how weak I really am

Poem by KilljulietXx

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