Psyke.org

Denice

Denice’s Life

Copyright, Denice

This is a true story but I’m not dead yet. I cut every single day and I can’t stop. I wish I could but I can’t. I get bitched at way to much and I’m bought to lose it. I’m in counselling but all she said is why, why, why. I can’t believe you can take that pain and a whole bunch of shit that don’t even matter so it looks like I’m goin to a mental hospital soon. Mom said she doesn’t want me here anymore and she don’t care about me anymore.

The Pain Is Unbearable,
It Hurts So Bad
Slip Slip Slip…
The Sound Of The Razor When It Goes Across The Skin On My Arm
Drip Drip Drip…
The Sound Of The Blood Flowing Out Of My Arm
Scream Scream Scream…
The Sound You Hear From Me But Dont React
They Say Who Cares
I Say I Care
They Say Hurtful Things
I Say The Truth
Slip Slip Slip…
A Little To Deep
Oh Shit Help Me
I Cry Cry Cry Out For Help But No One Seems To Hear Me Cry
My Weaps
My SorrW Just Floats Away
It Floats Away Like Blood In Water
I Lie Cold
Dead
In A Pool Of Blood Until The Next Morning.
They See Me On The Floor
Lifeless In A Pool Of Blood
The Note Next To Me Said…
I’ve Cried For Help So Much
And You Never Did Anything About It
I Couldn’t Take Any More
I Hope You’re Happy Now
Now You Dont Have To Put Up With Me
You Cant Say That I’m Psycho Any More
You Wouldn’t Help Me
I Tried To Get Help, But You Refused To Help Me

 

Permanent location: http://www.psyke.org/poetry/d/denice