Ok so this is a poem i wrote about my friends 'self harm' problem. She said that her blade was her best friend sometimes. So i've tried to write that in aswell :)
I think it's really important people understnad she is not just crying for attettion, i mean only a few of us know...
A river of deep blood red
Running down my arm
Why can they not understand,
By this i mean no harm?
It makes me feel much better
It sorts out my head
Takes away my pain
Plauges my arm instead
I pick up the gleaming silver
Sometimes he's my best friend
I hold him to my forearm
For my hurting he will tend
Slowly he opens up my pain
I see it all run out
All the anger and the crying
No more need to scream and shout.
One day maybe i'll go to far
Maybe i'll cut to deep..
But in the end does it really matter
I'll no longer have to weep
I REALLY do not care
It would be better if i died
Everyone would be so much better off
If i were not alive
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