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Better Off Dead... (Poem...Kinda) -
November 10th 2015, 03:13 AM
This thread has been labeled as triggering, particularly on the subject of self harm, by the original poster or by a Moderator. The contents of this thread might therefore not be suitable for certain sensitive users. Please take this into consideration before continuing to read.
Every time I pick up my blade I think, why am I doing this?
Then I realize how much you hurt me.
You hurt me so bad I'd rather end my life.
I realize you never cared.
I realize you were fake this whole time.
Why would you make me want this?
Every time I pick up my lighter to smoke I think, why am I doing this?
Then I realize it's a habit you put me up to.
I realize my lungs don't matter, I'll die anyway.
I realize it feels so good; the way my throat hurts.
Then the final time I tie the noose I think, is this is what you want?
Then I realize you would be happier; without me.
I realize I never mattered to you.
Then as I put the rope over my head I think, why doesn't she care?
Then I realize you wont run in here to save me.
So I let go.
I let go of the pain, the guilt, and the sorrow.
When you walk in you glance at me and smile.
I am watching you.
I AM HAUNTING YOU.
You seem happier now.
Now that I am gone.
You are back to smiling, no longer looking angry.
I am happy you're happy.
I am better off dead.
That god does not exist, I cannot deny
That my whole being cries out for a god, I cannot forget.
The gates of Heaven were locked shut. The pits of Hell, they were all filled up. And I fear I don't belong here.....
How could someone so perfect feel so insecure? As to scar her skin with cuts and burns and still want to hurt more. How does someone so loving learn to hate her own guts? Drawing a picture on her arm with a blade, as if her mind wasn't dark enough
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