Help Me

Poem about scars on my wrists…
Under the light I can see my scars
My red and bloody wrists
While I lie here on this cold floor
I wonder
Who is going to rescue me?
I start to cut deeper
Knowing soon I have to stop
Or I will be dead
Help me I scream
No one hears me
I slowly drift away
Everything seems so blurry and distant
Maybe I am dying
Maybe that will be better
Help me
I wake up the next morning
Doctor’s face clouded with concern
I nod as he asks me if I am okay
But I am not ok
Help me
Help me to stop cutting

By benjamin dye
Published: 3/3/2007		 Your Contributions: Tell us a Poem! You don't have to be a Buzzle.com author to contribute to Poetry Bee. Submit a poem of your own right now!
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