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Literature Text
From start to finish I wonder why
The cuts look good in this messed up lie
The blood that trickles down my arm
People all stare at the girl who self-harms:-
"The emo" they call me
I turn to my name
They act out slicing their wrists
I hang my head in shame
I can't help my feelings
Of being alone
I hide myself for the day
Just longing to go home
I sprawl on my bed
With my razor in hand
And take myself away
To a much better land
I stare in the mirror
And let myself cry
Looking forward to the day
That I finally die
The cuts look good in this messed up lie
The blood that trickles down my arm
People all stare at the girl who self-harms:-
"The emo" they call me
I turn to my name
They act out slicing their wrists
I hang my head in shame
I can't help my feelings
Of being alone
I hide myself for the day
Just longing to go home
I sprawl on my bed
With my razor in hand
And take myself away
To a much better land
I stare in the mirror
And let myself cry
Looking forward to the day
That I finally die
Literature
A Poem About Self Harm
- Don't -
Dont listen
Dont care
Dont talk to me
Dont pay attention
Dont love me
Dont act like I am alive
Because I will be fine
Dont you see my scars?
Literature
Shackled
Her dress,
Once so beautful and vibrant,
Now tattered and stained,
Just barely covering her skin from the musty imprisonment.
Her ankles,
Shackled and bound with chains
As they clatter with every movement,
The noise echoing off the walls of the empty,
Isolated room.
Her hair,
That once looked like gold when the sun reflected off it,
Now a mangled, knotted mess,
Yet, that was the least of her worries.
Her eyes,
Gray and lifeless,
Had run out of tears to shed.
The helpless look in her eyes
Looked nothing like the green and gold hue
They once had.
Her voice,
Hoarse and almost at a whisper
From screaming for help,
Screaming
Literature
Scars Are Beautiful Ch. 1
I sat in the stiff chair, foot tapping nervously, butterflies attacking my empty stomach(I was too nervous to eat), and sweating as if I just got done running five miles. The woman hiding behind the huge desk watched me quizzically, but I hardly paid any attention to her. Instead, I just watched the people scurry around the office and exchange short conversations. A few were willing to spare me a fake smile but most didn't even look at me. I couldn't blame them, really. I was, after all, dressed in a punk-ish black Skelanimals t-shirt, black and white checkered skinny jeans, black Vans, black studded belt, studded choker, and my shaggy black
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this speaks to me. it says, im with you..... every step of the way...