Dear Diary
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Dear Diary
soo yeah i wrote this not to long ago...i had a bad day and this is what happened....
poem kinda sucks but whatever, it helped me....
Dear Diary,
I sat alone in my room not making a sound. I looked to see that no one is around. I couldn't take this lonely room anymore. So I took a deep breath and walked out the door. I sat on my swing pushing the dirt around. There I sat talking to the ground. I know how it feels being stepped on all the time. How easily people forget that you're under their stride. So I pulled out my blade and sat on the ground, admiring its shape and twirling it around. I sat there thinking how the blade knew my pain, it doesn't ever judge me or make me feel shame. I told the blade how much I hate myself, but no one is around to see me yearning for help. The hole in chest started burning me inside, so then I decieded that it was time. I pulled up my sleeve and pushed the blade to my skin. Dragging it slowly against my arm again and again. I dropped the blade and watched my blood drip down my skin. I sat there contemplating whether to do it again. I began to think about the people who said they'd be here. Then why aren't they here helping me refrain from my tears? So there I sat alone in the darkness of night, and thought to myself, this is my life.
poem kinda sucks but whatever, it helped me....
Dear Diary,
I sat alone in my room not making a sound. I looked to see that no one is around. I couldn't take this lonely room anymore. So I took a deep breath and walked out the door. I sat on my swing pushing the dirt around. There I sat talking to the ground. I know how it feels being stepped on all the time. How easily people forget that you're under their stride. So I pulled out my blade and sat on the ground, admiring its shape and twirling it around. I sat there thinking how the blade knew my pain, it doesn't ever judge me or make me feel shame. I told the blade how much I hate myself, but no one is around to see me yearning for help. The hole in chest started burning me inside, so then I decieded that it was time. I pulled up my sleeve and pushed the blade to my skin. Dragging it slowly against my arm again and again. I dropped the blade and watched my blood drip down my skin. I sat there contemplating whether to do it again. I began to think about the people who said they'd be here. Then why aren't they here helping me refrain from my tears? So there I sat alone in the darkness of night, and thought to myself, this is my life.
:: Graphics Forum :: Art :: Poetry
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