Knife's Kiss (WARNING)
I want to kill myself.
I do not want "attention", I want help. Sometimes I starve myself and sometimes I walk through stinging nettle and even sometimes I dig my nails so deep into my neck and arms it starts to bleed.
They were never supposed to see my scars, but they think me a soldier bragging about my wounds.
I do not want to be sent away to convenience you, I want help. I need, help.
I have pressed the chef's knife into my heart and dragged bloody blades across my neck, I have been the book to a writer who writes only in his own blood.
Sometimes I cry. I cry very hard. But even when tears streak my face in the backseat of a silent car, they do not see them.
I am terrified of their voices, I am terrified of their thoughts.
I want to fly away.
© Salem Ferrel, All Rights Reserved
I do not want "attention", I want help. Sometimes I starve myself and sometimes I walk through stinging nettle and even sometimes I dig my nails so deep into my neck and arms it starts to bleed.
They were never supposed to see my scars, but they think me a soldier bragging about my wounds.
I do not want to be sent away to convenience you, I want help. I need, help.
I have pressed the chef's knife into my heart and dragged bloody blades across my neck, I have been the book to a writer who writes only in his own blood.
Sometimes I cry. I cry very hard. But even when tears streak my face in the backseat of a silent car, they do not see them.
I am terrified of their voices, I am terrified of their thoughts.
I want to fly away.
© Salem Ferrel, All Rights Reserved