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To be honest, I don't know how to write.



I'm sitting in my room waiting to re-act

to the scars on my arm,

that just won't set back

and let the blood cause harm,

to the bed sheets they are laying on.

I don't try to clean it up,

because I know tomorrow will bring the same pain,

and I ain't got time to clean something that's so closeup

that I caused after silent tears, as small as grain,

because I have a mask that needs to be re-build.

Before I let those who are close, step into my comfort zone.

I might be smart, but I'm not so skilled

to actually hide what's written behind me in stone

and that has my sangre spilled.

Listen to me speak, hear my tone

this has been going on too many years, non-stop

and you think my so called friends would pick it up by the way I've shown,

my thoughts and actions through poems.

I've lost all emotions throughout my body and mind

and I've drunk my way up to a jeroboam

but I guess like me, they can be blind

and don't know the answer

that I've been looking for but can't find.

"Why are you I doing this, what makes it feel good?

Can you come back from this abyss, What have you withstood?

I'm sorry I didn't notice

I had my own problems to deal."

I know you did, and I know how you feel.

No one cares what happens to me,

they just let it go on

and let me be.

But you know i wish someone would care enough

to tell me I didn't have to do it alone

maybe then it wouldn't have been so tough.

The story does not end here.

I want you to listen close,

I've abused drugs for nearly a year.

Morphine, just so I can go numb.

Laughing gas, so I can be happy before school.

A-bombs, just to feel cool.

Painkillers to relax my muscles after being so stiff

Aspirin to get reed of my headaches after the day.

I want to be better!

I know this isn't the way!

but who can I write to, who can i send a letter?

What can I say,?

So people know the boy behind the mask.

These are the questions I need to be asked.

Here is where my story ends.

Now who will save me

If I ain't got friends

Hopefully someone gets this message

and comes back to me because they want to help,

and they get the wreckage, in my life

maybe my dreams will stop being strife.

Now I can smile and hope it works,

because I don't think i can write again, without being hurt.


To be honest, I don't know how to write.



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This article has 7 comments. Post your own!

Regs_the_Shorty said...
Sept. 10, 2011 at 4:54 pm:
Loved it really, extremely deep!!!!!
 
Dark_Mind replied...
Sept. 14, 2011 at 5:44 pm :
Thank you.
 
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GangstaEyes This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 25, 2011 at 10:00 pm:
I have to point out that you're wrong. You DO know how to write, All the poems of yours that I have read are beyond powerful, with deep messages and dark subject matter. You have major talent and I hope you know that there are people who care. :) A lot of people have been in the same position as you and have felt what you felt. You just convey it in an understandable way to those who are fortunate enough to not experience this. Please keep writing, you have talent.
 
Dark_Mind replied...
Jun. 26, 2011 at 1:18 pm :
Thank you so much, :D, but all of this is also fiction.
 
miracle_of_hope replied...
Sept. 6, 2011 at 5:36 pm :
um WOW. just wow
 
Dark_Mind replied...
Sept. 14, 2011 at 5:44 pm :
THANKS A LOT.!
 
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HaleyDRog. said...
Jun. 25, 2011 at 12:20 am:
I loved the way you started and ended this! It had such a great message throughout the poem. Nice job!
 
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