Running like a stallion, she moves all through out the room
If she can't find that piece of metal, she is surely doomed
She checks the bed, the couch, in every space she could find
But the only thing she saw was wet tissues and cheap whine
For the next week or so she goes crazy inside
Not being able to cut makes her want to cry
She hides all of her feelings as she figures out where to look next
She finds her razors in the trash, laying with the rest
She remembers when she said she was done
She said hurting herself was just no fun
She remembers her grabbing all of her tools
And throw them in the trash like a fool
But now she says hurting herself is what she has to do
It's an addiction that she just can't get through
YOU ARE READING
Random Demented Stuff
PoetryCollection of poems or rants that I write. Very suprised at how many views and votes I got on this, thanks to all my readers ALSO Finished with this one, if you want to see more of my poetry look at my profile for the new collection.
