Sitting in my room, I cry.
Tears flow down my cheek,
Dripping slowly from my eye.
I can not survive this week.
Words of anger drift up the stairs,
And with them comes more pain.
I quickly cover up my ears.
The tears now fall as rain.
Nothing that I ever do
Ever turns out right.
Today, twas what I didn't do
That started up this fight.
Rarely does she smile for me,
Or for what I have done.
Instead she stands and gripes at me,
And compliments, gives me none.
Patience, she has run out of.
For my sister, it's the same.
My mother's is a tough love,
And I am filled with shame.
To make the hurt all go away
Is all I want to do.
My way would surely shock my friends
If they only knew.
I walk now slowly to my desk.
The decision has been made.
Open drawer, sift through the mess.
I pull out a shining blade.
To my skin I press it now,
A thin line across my arm.
It does not hurt, I know not how,
This twisted, soothing harm.
I watch it bleed with a stare intense
And wait for it to dry.
None of this makes any sense,
But I no longer cry.
I put the blade back in its place
And prepare to leave my room.
I'm ready to lose in life, this race,
And hope it will be over soon.