My Little Book of Poems

End This

I slide the blade across my wrist

Why does it have to be like this

I wake up and put on a fake smile

I haven't been happy in a good while

Im a great pretender as you can see

Everyone always believes me

They all think that I stay cold

If only the truth were told

I wear a hoodie to cover my arm

They don't know that I do self harm

They don't know I hate my life

The only love I have is for my knife

Its not my fault I promise you

It is these voices, they have grew

My self confidence they shred

Making me wish I was dead

I'm ready to go, take me away

Why, oh God do you make me stay

So once again I cut my wrist

I hate my life, please let me end this