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Title Name Goes Here
October 1, 2012
What is this feeling I’m feeling?
Why do I feel so low?
I feel useless, worthless.
All alone.
Why do I think like this?
Why do I want death to come?
When I put the blade to my skin,
I feel no pain.
I only see red, scarlet wine,
Pour out of my arm.
Why am I like this?
Why do I feel no pain?
I walk along a beach of black,
And let the scarlet waters lap at my ankles.
The sun is dark and his eyes are red.
He took my hand-
Don’t pull back.
Hand so cold, we walk along.
His bones in my hand.
Blood tears streak my face.
Why won’t it end?
© Anonymous
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