Broken Cutter

 "Hate me"
 Carved into my arm,
 Is this cause for alarm?
 
 Cuts wrapped around my wrist,
 Suddenly I feel lost-
 I think of what the cuts have cost.
 
 Definite stares at my arms-
 They wonder why there is so much red,
 I think I’d rather be dead.
 
 I just would like to cry out why,
 Why can’t I cry?!
 Why can’t I just say goodbye?!
 
 I’m just tired of staying strong,
 I’m getting worn down here-
 My life is being ruled by fear.
 
 So I sit here and ponder,
 Why I feel so much strain,
 And why numbness overcame pain.
 
 Why did I cut again?
 Why have I thrown everything away-
 Just for some thoughts gone astray.
 
 So here I lay,
 Nothing to utter
 For I am a broken cutter.