Old Me
You see me, but do you actually see?
of course you don't.
You're too busy to notice me.
You've plugged your ears to my voice
and turned away from me.
You "have to work"
Just keep enabling.
Just Keep chugging your rancid gold.
I'll never be perfect
I know, I know.
I just want you to stop trying to make me
something I'm just not.
I just want you to see
that I don't try to get in trouble
just to get in trouble.
I'm not a bad kid
Really I'm not.
I just want you to notice me
Notice me! Notice me! Notice Me!
Look at me Mom and Dad
Please tell me that you still love me
Please tell me that you want me to feel better
I'm so sick of feeling like shit!
Sometimes I just feel like doing really
really bad things.
I get the urge to purge
The itch to slit
I don't want to do it really
But in a way I really do.
I shouldn't have to
hurt myself
To get you to understand
but I will.
You're my parents
You should know when I feel this awful
So why does my spilling blood
have to do the screaming?
Something wrong with this poem?
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Typewriterwriter
I don't write about death because I want to die, I write about death because when death takes me I'd like to think that I am in the care of a wonderful friend. Writing is a language everyone can understand. Even when our words are confused and twisted, we find someone who translates perfectly. I speak for those who are scared and trapped and those whose voices have been stolen from them. God speaks through me and gives me strength to give to others. I will write until my end.
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