Submissions by Russ38

When I cut the pain is let out,
But it'll return without a doubt.
But for the moment I can rest,
Then it's back to being stressed.

So I grab the knife,
Hoping to end my life.
But the knife does not cut my vein,
Though it does release mental pain.

I cut not for a sudden rush,
But to watch the pain gush.
Out of my arm and drip to the floor,
And so the puddle is added a little more.

I wake up everyday and put on a smile,
Knowing I'll have to hold the pain in for a while.
I leave the house hating my life,
Later I return and grab my knife.

Call me stupid, or call me dumb,
I have to cut unitl I'm numb.
I'm a bad person, no one thinks I'm not,
So I grab knife and cut 'til it's forgot.

As I cut, and  blood rushes out,
The blade hurts, but I don't shout.
Because, now my mental pain isn't present,
It's like the knife opened a vent.
Out with the mental pain,
As I watch the blood rain.

I close my eyes, I can...

You can hate me and call me names,
But cutting isn't a game.
I'll believe it all, sit against my wall
And watch the blood will fall.
You can call me ugly, or call me dumb,
Then I'll cut til my arm is numb.
It hurts but I don't care,
Because it erases this nightmare.

The call it life, but I call it jail,
Because the mental pain is hell.
I may not look sad,
But don't be mad.
On the inside I'm torn apart,
And I want to rip out my heart.
I've been bullied and cussed,
But I've never fussed.

To forget about...