I promised you that I would stop
Stop myself from cutting.
But the pain I inflict
Shown on my wrists
Displays no signs of stopping.
They tried to help my pain addiction,
At the hospital where I was.
But the depression meds I took last night
I guess just never kicked in.

So here's my story,
I hope you enjoy it,
Even if it's depressing and gory.

The tears I saw
Roll off your face
Helped my bloody razor to decay,
But that was once upon a time ago.
Sounds crazy, but it was in 5th grade.
I've always been a messed up kid,
And classmates have been showing me how,
But up until my 10th year alive,
The other coping techniques weren't fouls.
The cutting, I guess, eased my pain,
Made me focus on something else.
But my bloody wrists made tears flow down
On my mother's cheeks like rain.

So here I am,
Cut-up wrists and all.
I still want preparation;
To close my eyes before I fall.
Fall into a world of mutilation.
The people around me tell me to stop,
But they don't know how hard it is.
I can't just sit there and let my razor drop.
Anyway, it's none of their business.

I told you I wanted to quit,
But thats what i felt obligated to say.
I hate to tell you, my words weren't legit.
I'll try again some other day.

by Jordan Weeks

Comments (1)

a sweet poem written professional way..lovely idea, , , meaningful enough..well done