Words are Weapons


United States
38° 32' 50.7948" N, 121° 46' 35.5116" W

It's agony to let the world see you so exposed; rotting from the inside out; hollow; decomposed.To you I must seem crazy, with all understanding outta sight; you think the scars along my arms were simply done in spite.Crimson is the color that deep within I bleed; I wish I knew another way in which I could be freed.Lost beyond the darkness, God, it's so frigid in my soul; I can't recall a simpler time, I had ever felt so whole.You think that I don't notice, how you stare as I walk by; I don't really give a shit what your judging looks, imply.You claim that you're an artist, but see, I'm an artist, with a twist; My paint brush is a razor and the canvas is my wrist.Piercing through my conscience, are all the words I've never said; Dangling from my shattered heart, are the many lives in which I've led.You say I have no courage; that I wish to die to end the pain; But, I will not be another statistic, whose life is lost in vain.I may not have a voice now; and yeah, I lack all self esteem; and though it is so deafening; Its bright red in which, I scream.So the next time that you see someone, whose lost; But, in your sight; Before you pass a hateful look, acknowledge first, their fight.We all live life differently; who am I to judge the way you sin; Some people hide their story; others tattoo it upon their skin.You may never agree, or more importantly, comprehend; that you need to look much deeper, before you let your hurtful words condemn.We only get one chance at this; yeah, we only get one life. If this has taught you anything, I hope it's that words will cut you deeper than a knife.               

This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741