Beyond Broken

My wrists are marked with scars,
Kept hidden under my clothes,
No One knows the torture I feel,
Exposed to pain and misery.
Reminding me that this,
Pain is adoring pleasure.
My heart is tattooed with your scars,
Bloos pulwes through my veins,
The razor blade allows the,
Blood to run free,
Coating my arms with red,
The stinging cuts radiate,
Giving me a rush, drawing me in,
I do it again, and again,
Until my tears stop streaming,
My cries are from sarrow,
Killing my self- esteem,
Concentration is key,
When I draw sharpness to my wrist,
My cries are all in vein.
If my soul would rip apart,
It would take my heart along with it.
My arms are giving off,
A sensation too strong to bound,
Blood is spilling onto the floor,
A puddle is starting to form,
I stare at it quietly,
As I think about what I’ve just done.
The rush I get is exillerating.
I can’t stop pushing the blade,
Into my arm and wrist,
One day, you’ll understand.
My feelings are inclosed in my heart,
They beat with grave sadness,
Allowing me to grab the blade,
And start over again.