A/N: This is a collection of four seperate poems, written at different times but strung togehter in a story of sorts. The first is beginning to cut, the second: cuting, the third explains how it feels when everyone is watching you when they find out, and then they forget. And the forth is the urge to continue on, because the scars never healed. I hope that made sense. Please read, the poems are not as horrible as my summary.

Knife

The knife frightens me

But it calls my name

It’s too dark for anyone to see

The darkness is always the same

I think of my dried out tears

I remember the long nights

No more comforts ease my fears

My true path is out of sight

Steadily I bring the blade

Up against my cold flesh

Thoughts race through my head on parade

The blood is warm, noticeably fresh

I bite my lip to stifle my cry

And slice my skin once more

Tonight will be the night I die

What else would the knife call my for

Crimson Writing

Why no one could figure it out

I’ll probably never know

But I will no longer scream and shout

Attention’s not what I need

What I need I can’t see

And I’m so blind to the world

I want to know what’s around me

And I pay once more

These crimson tears I’m crying

Broken in the core

Writing on my arm again

It’s such a beautiful tragedy

But I can’t let anyone see

My one and only masterpiece

That I painted to kill the pain

But it doesn’t seem to fade

All I can see are my dry eyes

No longer afraid of the blade

Not one tear do I dare shed

It will only bring so many more

And they will rain down

On my so called happiness

Around them I don’t dare frown

But I can’t bring myself to kill

It’s a weakness and a strength

But God only knows why

No One

And when the pain stops

The scars fade away

Worry does drop

They look upon the new day

But just because I can’t

Doesn’t mean that I don’t want to

What impression did I grant

I die because I can’t do

What my brain is saying

Although I know that it is wrong

My hearts just playing

And I’ve known this all along

But how’s this happiness

Shouldn’t I feel

Aren’t I princess

Then how is this hurt real

No one left to help me

They all turned their heads

Someone please help me see

Before my soul ends up dead

Get me out of this lukewarm life

And show me compassion

Pull me away from the knife

I want to be done with these rations

Everyone watching

And then no one’s there

Past Chores

At least it’s over now

The only words I hear

All I ask is how

How can you not see my fear

I think that I’m okay

And then I want to bleed

When do I have a say

In the emotions that I breed

Everyone sees me smile

I hear myself laugh

So why am I acting like a child

And drowning in the bath

How I want to see blood

How I need to etch on my skin

These feelings rush in like a flood

Their breaking this box I’m in

I’m forcing myself away from this tirade

Away from the knife

I’m scared of when I find the blade

That I’ll end my life

My scars still scream with regret

I speak with hypocrisy to my peers

My dreams are so unset

Voices echo from the mirrors

Shadows of tears line my face

I cry over past days

Hope is here, then gone with no trace

I won’t let go of past ways

I can’t seem to give up the time

I’m holding on too tightly

This is the end of the line

My heart won’t take it lightly

Anxiety is all I hold

At least I’ve been told before

I’ll keep clinging to this cold

But life is such a chore