STOP Cutting Poem

Poem About People Not Understanding Why I Cut Myself

Some may say that my poems are just random words scribbled on a page with no meaning whatsoever. But, as usual, they're wrong. Dreadfully, terribly wrong. My poems ARE me. Everything that I endure pours through me and onto the many pages of pain and agony. Though my poems may be depressing, this one in particular, they ARE me. I don't know any other way of expressing my feelings without coming out to be weak. I'm sorry if they are a bit dreadful, but I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.

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They Think They Know

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Published: June 2014

"Stop cutting yourself!" they scream.
"It's the first stage of suicide," they say,
But they just don't understand, do they?
They don't understand what it's like.
What it's like to feel SO ... MUCH ... PAIN.
What it's like to feel so much emptiness.
Everything I go through!
Everything I lock away inside
NOBODY understands!

They think they do though.
They think they have me all figured out.
They ALL think they know how it feels,
But in reality
They have no idea.

Nor will they ever.

So why do I do it?
Why do I go through more pain?

It blocks everything out.
It makes the pain go away
Or at least numbs me.
I can't really feel the pain through all the tears.

But only for a little while.
Sooner or later the pain returns
All at once
With no warning,
And the whole cycle of ruin, emptiness, and pain
To me
Once more,

For me to endure
By myself,




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