Everyday Life
Red,
the blood the streams down my wrist.
Pain,
shoots up my arm from my newly made wounds.
Scars,
A reminder of what I have done.
Stares,
They don't understand,
they don't see the pain, only the outcome.
Confusion,
As to why I do it,
They don't know and neither do I.
Depression,
Tears and pain,
The only comfort I have left.
Copyright © Skye Stoddart | Year Posted 2006
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