The cuts on your wrists,

They don't give me hope.

They don't make me pity you

They make me sad,

Because you had dreams.

So many dreams that

They filled your head and flowed out your ears.

The cuts on your wrists,

They don't make me think

"She is really strong."

They make me think

"She needs help." And

"Why does he do this?"

It makes me wonder why you never

Defended yourself

When people shot bullets

Bullets that were words

At your heart.

Why didn't you pick up a shield?

The cuts on your wrists

They don't allow the thought of an

Uncorrupt world to even glimpse

Before my eyes.

It only allows the thought

That people are so numb

That they cut their body so they know

What emotion feels like.

The cuts on your wrist

They remind me of a best friend

Who despite her beauty,

She can't see it.

My best friend who can't help but love

Everyone.

Our friends,

The people who we grow up with,

Our parents,

Our leaders,

Our teachers,

Our doctors,

Our media.

It's everywhere.

We can't help stop and stare

At the fake people on walls.

Why do we see ads for perfume,

Instead of graffiti that promotes

Peace?

Why do people give hate instead of kindness?

Why aren't we stopping this,

It's everywhere?

Aren't you sick of feeling bad

About the you who is absolutely perfect?

Please tell me you are.

We can't tell truth from lies

So we accuse people who tried to help.

And now the cycle has gone full circle.

And circles are infinite

Like the number

3.1415926535897932...

I'm sick of counting down the seconds.

I'm sick of going in circles because it makes me sick.

May I propose the idea

That cancer and all the other forms of death

Are the counteract to every hateful word.

The universe says

"For this killing was purposeful,

So one shall die in a state of innocence."

Screw overpopulation all I see is

Tombstones.

They say death comes in three,

How about three thousand?

The cuts on your wrists.

They are a brand of deaths cult.

Band together, help eachother.

I see people who are gone,

So, so gone.

I believe the continents were once joined together,

I believe that us humans are connected.

Just because someone's hands are covered in blood,

Just because their sweaty or gross

Doesn't give us the right to turn our backs

Upon the people who need it the most.

Join hands and we will join hearts.

Join hearts and our minds will strive for one goal.

One goal, one unit.

No more 3.1415926535897932

Just one.