Hurt

A straight face, trying to be kept

While everything was okay, i wept

I try to not think about it,

It's not like i wanted to slit

My body

Horrid wounds that were made by me,

How dare i scar the person i hate to be?

Scared of the tiniest bit of sad,

The ending is almost always bad.

I don't want this, yet it still haunts,

Lurking over my shoulder, doing its taunts.

I think good thoughts,

but it doesn't really help

Me.

Me me me me

Selfish Me.

Sad Me.

Depressed Me.

I'm all i ever think about,

I'm not a narcissist though I swear,

I'm i good person.

I just have moments

I can be as fragile as a flower

And yet still prick you with my thorns.