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Razor Kissed Wrists
It's hard not to cry, not to be sad,
not to be aware of my scars, my razor kissed wrists,
I wear long sleeved shirts and smile to forget the hurt,
but i know my heart will fill with pain,
and its never the same,
when my sick little game starts again,
I cut way too deep losing too much blood,
staring down at my razor kissed wrists,
me secrets my lies,
every day i cry,
I've been taken advantage of too many times,
used and kicked aside i cut into my razor kissed wrists,
you see and you stare,
but i know you don't care,
you judge me by just on glance at my razor kissed wrists.
*just a poem i dont cut myself but i sure felt like it when i wrote this poem*
 ZuuZu · Sun May 18, 2008 @ 06:04am · 0 Comments |
