Cutter's Lament

He was supposed to be my dad He was supposed to make me glad He should not have made me sad Now I don't feel the same. He should have handled me with care We should have had a world to share He should not have touched me there Why do I feel some of the blame? I couldn't tell my mom, nor my counselor in school I couldn't face myself, feeling like a fool Now I lose control when my urges start to rule Will these feelings never cease? Now, in the darkness of my room, when I'm all alone Feeling my life is over, I don't have one of my own As I cut my arms, I feel as though my heart has turned to stone With the blood there comes release. I have no future I can see, but go on each day I must I don't fit in this world at all; my dreams have turned to dust There is no one I feel comfortable with, no one I can trust All my days are filled with rain I press the edge against my skin but still I do not feel Oh God, please make it stop. My life's been so unreal Sometimes I pray, sometimes I swear, but still I do not heal Why, oh why don't I feel the pain? My days are filled with darkness, only I can tell Inside I feel the shame and know I never will get well In my mind a sense of hopelessness, my own private hell As I sit alone and cry. Am I neurotic, psychotic? Is my mind nearly gone? Why am I here? Why do I need to carry on? In this twisted hell you created, I feel like a pawn. Now I'm wishing I would die. This was written for the cutters I've worked with, all beautiful kids, all abused by the very people who should have been loving them and watching out for them. A reinforcement for me on my belief in the death penalty. a slow calculated death penalty.