Poem Hunter
FA (1988- / Mexico City)


Have you seen my cuts,
Marked by the knife?
It's better than living in pain.
Better than dealing with my strife.
I see my silver razor
And it makes me want to do harm.
Seeing blood from my wrists,
Seeing blood from my arm.
The feeling of relief.
My cuts so cold and numb.
Some people may think
That this act is real dumb.
Who cares what other's think.
I have no reason to live.
This guy can die when you least expect it.
He has nothing left to give.
A cutter is what I am.
Help will never change me.
As I draw more toward death
What I am now, is what I want to be.
I don't care what other's say
Because cutting releases my pain.
I hope one day I cut too deep
And slice through a vein.
Some people just don't understand
How much pain I'm really in.
But I guess I hide it from the world.
Can't say what lies within.
Cutting is my escape
From this 'so-called' reality.
These scars are here forever.
Dark marks for all to see.

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