but i dont deserve the relief...

i no longer care if i am unempty​

and i dont care if people know​

i dont matter enough to hide,​

i hope they kill me for it.​

i hope they tear apart my insides,​

i hope the bleeding never stops.​

i hope they whisper sickness torment​

in my ears with disgusted loathing​

voices, so i dont forget,​

i must be a loser.​

i hope they rip the faggot ​

thoughts from me,​

hope they burn my disease.​

want the softness that had drowned my ​

fear to go. fucked-hatred, but alone.​

i hope they see my scars,​

and hope they feel them too.​

hope every second of pressure and​

every inch i pulled the razor shows through.​

​

i hope they bleed like me.​

 

what a reach for life
how this made me feel

to turn your back on your self is hard
but harder still is to face what caused it....

beautiful poem such reflections on how others may react
love n peace from saff

be whole now...

 

That is beautiful, yet tragic. Though noone can understand another persons experiences completely, I feel your pain. Keep writing. It can be salvation.