You hurt me.

I look around,
In the cupboards,
And on the ground,

There must be something,
Somewhere,
Something sharp,
Bound to leave scars.

I open draw's,
Fling open cupboards,
Lay on the floor look under things,
Look under my covers.

A pair of scissors,
Perfect,
I'll leave a mark,
One that might make you understand,
If you even come here.

I think,
I hum,
I sniff,
Then the tears roll down.

I know what to carve,
Something to haunt you,
For as long as you see,
My sad,
Defencless wrists.

I slice,
I carve,
I make a flick here,
And a flick there.

Finally I'm almost finished,
Maybe no more pain,
Will my wrists have to bear,
YOU HURT ME.

They are the words etched onto my skin,
However long I live,
When I'm old,
Forever.

One last mark,
The dot,
Now where to put it,
Where in my open flesh?

I look,
I study,
Science better of done,
A good deed.

I see it,
There it is,
The treasure to me,
The vein.

I stab it,
I sob as I bleed,
I wish this didn't have to,
End like this.

Maybe mum,
If you loved me,
Came to see me,
It would need never of ended.

Like this,
In a pool of my own blood,
When will I be found,
With the message upon my wrist.

Will you be there for the funeral?
Will you cry?
Will you care?
Or will you walk away back to your life?

Im dead,
Theres nothing you can do.