What I See Everyday

the blade slit
the blood came.
the scars hurt and memories remain.
days are black and white.
smiles fade and the sky starts to cry.
people don't know what happens, when doors are closed.
the scars are not from the cat, but me and only me and me alone.
Did you take the blade?
Did you see blood?
Was it satisfactions or grief?
Do you know what we feel when you walk in with fake cuts and your blank face?
do you know a cutters pain?
No. . .?
then ask why.
and you'll know the cutters lullaby
deleted deleted
Sep 10, 2012