Hiya! Thisis not a short storie andwasn't written as a poem. I made it into one though… this is just one of those things that happened and I wrote about it. Things happen in life and the only way I know how to deal with them is to write. Writing is my savior and my tormentor at the same time. I'm addicted to it. These are just… feelings…I don't really know how to explain. I don't expect anything to come from these. They are not really something you can like or dislike. Really its only something that you can relate to, or you can't. figure it out for yourself…

You hit me again.

Just like before.

It use to only be mom.

And I tried to stop you back then.

I hate you so much.

I wish I could just die.

You hit me.


You push me to the edge.

You push me somewhere I don't want to go.

The scissors in the corner looks at me.

I look back longingly.

You make me want to cut myself.

More than I ever have before.

I want to see my blood spill.

I want it to end here and now.

You wont notice that I'm gone.

You'd probably be happy.

Go ahead.

Hit me again.

I don't care anymore.

I'm somewhere else.

I'm not here.

The tears are coming down my cheek.

I blast my music so loud.

It still wont take the thought out.

I could just cut deep and it would be all over.

I wouldn't have to live anymore.

I could die.

Hell even sounds better than this house.

I've scratched my wrists.

But there's no blood.

I still want more.

You don't love me.

Sister comes here.

You yell at here to get out.

She's only three and wont listen.

You move to push her out.

I yell at you to back off.

You come at me instead.

Oh well.

I rather it be me than her.

Just hit me again.

Beat me to death.

You would be doing me a favor.

Just let it end here.

Living sounds more of a punishment than a pleasure.

All I can hear is my music playing.

The sweet sounds lost on my ears.

My head is pounding.

My heart is racing.

My wrists are burning.

My body shaking.

I want to end it here…

There is another one like this. It is called God and was written one the same day.