Every time that your not there.
Shows me that you really don't care.
Watch me with this box of matches.
Burn my body into ashes.
And now I hold this razor blade.
Cleaning up this mess you made.
I carve your name into my arm.
My first resort is self harm.
Now slit my throat and watch me bleed.
Death is all I really need.
The poem is nice, the rhyme is good. The theme is not, as I understood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
come back- self harm is not a solution- Love life - read my poems and add your comments