cutting knife depression bullying violence pain sorrow alone scars
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Invisible tears, Blood stained wrists, The world is painted gray, Slowly fading day by day. Withering emotions, Broken hearts, Eyes so sunken, Lifeless from pain.
I was twelve when I first started doing it, You could blame it on puberty or a teenagers strong hormones, But as I feel each slit, I can remember the knife I used, The room I was in,
Drown my sorrows In a bucket filled to the brim With my tears Of pain.
It’s dark out now, there’s a chill in the air; the sun has set, the day is gone. Just like the night I find myself alone, questioning why society has settled to sleep and left me to be the only one of truth.