they ask me
why I cut myself
Say I'm crazy
and that I need help
Do you do this to be seen?
Hell no!
I do this instead of scream.
I can't scream,
but have to get it out
So when I cut
my arm becomes my mouth.
The blood is the words that never will be spoken .
The pain is the heart that never can be unbroken .
The scar is the reminder of that I deserve to be dead .
And the cutting again
is for the tears i couln't shead .
It's a circle, it goes around
A drop of red scream
without a sound.
A helpless soul that can't be saved
A lonely girl,
sad and afraid..
They keep asking
why I cut myself
I'm going crazy!
poem by O.G Loko
No comments:
Post a Comment