Words etched upon her skin, like a tattoo upon a heart.
Screaming at her 'FAILURE' 'FAT' and 'UGLY','FUCKED UP LITTLE TART'
Telling her she has been fucked up from the beginning .
All alone and crying in her head she can't find her way.
Metal touches skins
blade cuts the pain away
In the flow of red that gathers, with more speed travelling down her arm.
She feels her eyelids drooping, finding peace in herself at last.
The troubles of the past few years, are now faint and insignificant
Her spirit floating above the burden of the body that she once inhabited
She's going now, she's going...To place far away.
I bet you now regret telling her you wanted her dead each day.
A short poem i wrote in awareness of self harm,depression and abuse...please pass on and get the word spread...this is not right and no one from any walk of life should have to deal with it.
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