Numb
I was told you are dead, but I cannot feel a thing.The body count rises to three, but this wall is all I see.
All this terrible news I'm getting lately,
I just want to feel something, anything.
I'm losingmy whole life, yet still I cannot cry.
I cannot find a way to feel, no matter how I try.
When did I become so numb? I calmly ask myself.
When did I put my emotions way high upon that shelf?
Being numb like this scares me, it makes me feel dead.
Yet I know a way that I can feel, I can bleed instead.
I feel so numb lately so the blade will not hurt.
As I prepare myself, I roll up the sleeves on my shirt.
The first swipe draws no blood, how can this be?
In order to feel truly alive, much deeper the blade must go.
Push a little harder, pull the blade a little slower.
There we go, I did it, and my blood is now flowing.
I make a second cut, same as the last.
I haven't much time so I must make this fast.
While the blade brings me back to life, I begin to cry.
I remember how I didn't want to cut; now I'm asking why?
Let's think about the things I want to feel pain with.
I'll never see my brother again, never hear him laugh.
Three of my friends are dead; they all died the same fate.
I wonder if they see me still as they sit at heavens gate.
My "father" died a few years ago, a most horrific death. The cancer came and took his soul, but left a shell instead.
Another brother of mine will never be found again.
Marie through him to the dogs, we haven't seen him since.
I was almost kicked out of school, my future was nearly gone.
My dreams must be put on hold; it seems likfe for so long.
My love, he hates this, he gets angry when I cut.
I know I should stop now, but I haven't had enough.
I think about my abusive past, how that man did hurt me.
It took me oh so very long before I let anyone love me.
I think about everything else, that I couldn't feel before.
I look down as the blade is covered in blood, yet still I want more.
My logic gets the best of me and I count up all the cuts.
There are approximately fourty-eight but that's not nearly close enough.
I know I want to cut some more, as I know it lets me feel.
I want to hurt myself so badly that from weakness I do kneel.
I wasnt to kneel before God and be punished for my sins.
Let him strike me down dead; take me from these other kids.
I want to die, but I want to live, how much sence does that make?
I'm beginning to feel that way again, painless and devoid of love.
I'm going back into that shell, and now I'm totally NUMB.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.