What is the point of living?
When I have no hope,
No happiness or love?
Why is the only thing that helps
Making deep crimson rivers in
My arms, in my waist?
I feel so down, so depresses
And I see no way out.
This is a never ending gloom
To which I am forever doomed.
I need to cut
Deeply, painfully
Not just that but
I want it all to end
I want nought but death.
I slash at my wrists,
Warm crimson rivers become waterfalls.
The pain is unbearable but
Somehow it makes me feel better.
I’ve done it, I’ve done it,
I’ve cut deep enough,
I’m going to die.
Goodbye forever.
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
