Angelina

This is my Drug

Copyright, Angelina

i try to stop,
all this pain,
the cutting edge,
the razor blade,
everytime i need to cry,
my tears i hold & try to hide,
so i run to the bathroom,
turn the faucet on,
i sit on the floor,
and hold my arm,
i take out this box,
it’s little & black,
it carries nothing important,
just the pain that helps me relax,
so i take out a blade,
and i begin to slice, over & over,
sick i know, but it feels so nice,
suddenly a breath of fresh air i take,
it’s like i’m relieved, i’m now awake,
i close my eyes, my tears are small,
and now i feel the blood begin to fall,
as i look down, i see,
it hurts me inside,
but it’s so addicting,
i don’t do drugs, i’m not into all that,
but i cut myself… God, that really is bad.

Sidebar

Share Your Poetry

See the Contributing Content guide for information on how to add your poetry to the site.