I’m sitting here once again

at the edge of the bed

with a knife in my hand.

Struggling and fighting

for this thing called life.

Knowing what I want to do

isn’t right.

Yet, here I am once again

crying with a knife in my hand.

Hoping to cut away some of the

despair rotting away inside.

And with that I place the blade

on my inner thigh.

Emotions run high as I hesitate

with this blade in hand.

Wanting and needing to somehow

feel normal again.

But I drop the blade as I realize

that this isn’t the answer, so I cry.

 

Image: Flickr 

Other Dark Poetry: