I GIVE UP!!

Look this sounds shit but because I feel so bad because of things I’ve done…. I have been cutting and scratching words into my arm. It’s not deep and it’s not very clear and I try to keep the scars and the words covered up but it kills… so here’s the poem explaining why I do it…

 

DON’T JUDGE…. CUTTING HELPS!! – By MissCMF

 

At the moment I don’t feel like I want to talk to any living soul

I feel like I’m slowly falling, down a bottomless hole

So I guess it’s better to leave me alone

As if I had my way in a weak I’d be just bones

 

You can see the cuts from today and last week

If anyone mentions them I won’t speak

About why I do it? Because it just feels just so good

Of course I’d prefer a hug, but cutting helps more than it should

 

At home around family I act just fine, I don’t need to bother them

They have to sort out my sister, I’d prefer my life rather than hers to end

So when people talk judge me, think what I say is just lies I wouldn’t dare

Well why don’t you go and ask around, people have seen the marks and so can you so there

 

I don’t do it for attention, or for ill gotten gain

I do it so I feel better so I don’t go insane

Because the dreams and wishes my heart makes

Won’t come true no matter how hard it takes

 

I can’t say it’s anyone’s fault but mine,

I hold Unforgiveness to myself a hundred times

A hundred faults, a hundred mistakes

But maybe this is all just fait

 

That I feel so lost, trapped without air

Stuck in this… a prison where people can stare

Just seeing a girl who wants to cut

You don’t know half of it, the half that’s stuck

 

Away from people, so you don’t know my mind

But it you saw the songs in the stories, you would see that line

Its sick its cruel and it’s something I can’t control

If it wasn’t there, I would be good I would be whole

 

So judge me if you want, but you don’t at all see

The real the true, the whole me

One half wants to be happy to make lots of friends

But the other just wants her life to end

 

It’s a battle between what’s right and what’s not

But when I pick up the knife, or blade I just don’t stop

When I dig it in, let the blood come pouring out

Both parts are one, without a cry or shout