There is a red bloodstain
Down my left wrist
A sharp razor blade
Lies Within my right hand
I regret what I've done
But it just felt so good
All my pains
Melted away
Right on down
My left wrist...
I feel so relieved
No more pain
I try to hide my shame
With my old gray sweatshirt
Someone grabs my wrist
I flinch in pain
So much trouble
Just for a little relief
A little blood
I try to stop
Not astonished to discover
I can't stop
It feels too damn good
I'm addicted
I need help
But I'm afraid to ask
Will you think less of me
Once you know
You say you are my friend
And yet I am shunned
I tell you my secret
You push me away
I feel like crying
Tears refuse to fall
I guess I am just too stubborn
I can't feel anything at all
I retreat away
With my shiny silver blade
A few more cuts
Enough blood falls
To take my pain
Down with it
If only you could know
How I felt
You might understand my pain
No one will ever know
This time It has gone too far
And painlessly I slip away
I grasp the hand of death
And succumb to his powers
Goodbye friends
If that's what you call yourselves
this poem is such a great witness and testament to the fact that when we are most in need of an ear to hear our plight, is to encounter a world turned deaf to our plea, and a most profound deafness in what we assumed to be friends.
