My Secret's Safe With No One

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem about my problem with cutting.

Submitted: January 27, 2008

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Submitted: January 27, 2008

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I know they're talking behind my back

I hear them say "what the hell is that"

These marks upon my arm they see

They act like its defining me

 

So every time I hear them talk

I decide to talk a little walk

Walk right down to that bathroom stall

take a razor out, lean against the wall

 

I feel a tear slide down my face

Another day, another place

That I have to resort to this

This pain that I just cant resist

 

I slowly slide it across my skin

Knowing that I've let them win

The blood begins to trickle out

It hurts so bad, I want to shout

 

But no, one is never enough

I do a few more, making myself tough

With each cutt I go a little deeper

Assuring myself that this wont make me weaker

 

The job is done, my task completed

I looked at my arm, the monster I've created

I cover it up, put my supplies away

take a deep breath, tell myself "I'm okay"

 

I put a smile on, walk back in the room

All eyes are on me, they see through my smile, into my gloom

But I know for now, that I am fine

With these cutts, I've given myself time

 

So every time that they want to judge someone

They can look at me because I am done

I wont pretend that I dont care

Because no matter what, my secret they will share


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