People stare.
People whisper.
People ask about the scars.
All or about her.
Shes called names.
She gets into fights.
She has no friends.
Her world is crashing,
And she knows it.
Every night,
Her dreams worsen.
She no longer sleeps.
She no longer eats.
She does terrible in school.
She wishes that it all could end.
Shes not living,
Just surviving.
Not able to heal
From the emotional wounds.
She looks at her wrists,
At once was smooth skin,
Now covered in cuts and burns.
She slides the razor.
Over and over again.
4 handfuls of pills,
3 bottles of whiskey,
2 bullets,
And 1 gun later,
It finally ends.
YOU ARE READING
Crashing
HorrorI hope you guys like this one. It was one of the first poems i ever wrote.
