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Excuses
They ask and they ask,What happened to your arm?
What is causing you this harm?
I fell off a ladder,or out of a tree,
They wonder what to do with me,
Fell on the gravel,scratched by the cat.
Snagged on the roses,hit by a bat.
Walked into a table,cut myself shaving.
All the excuses I have been saving,
If I told them,
They would put me in a jar,and never open the lid.
So why sit around just to please you,
I CUT MYSELF,MAKE MYSELF BLEED.
There,the truth,What more do you need?
If I said it so clear it'd never stop,
So I'll use the excuses I said up top,
I'll lie and I'll lie they'll never know.
I tripped over the curb after stubbing my toe.
For years i've suffered from being slightly bi poloar (which has gotten worse lately)...i still cut my arms...the funny thing is nobody even notices anymore...it's such a common "trendy" thing it seems that it's ramapant everywhere. After awhile the excuses stop yet the peoples reaction stay the same. Ever wonder what would happen if you started to butcher more noticabe areas...will they notice at all? or will they just assume a really large hamster scracted you? People can be so amazingly dumb and fraudulent. From Adina Campbell P.S. Love the last name...: )
That's real deep. I don't know what brings on a disorder like that but it's sad. I hope you can work through it.
hey this poem is really something, i have friends who have cut themselves many times, and the hurt and pain of watching them go through it all is unbearable enough without it being me. i am glad to see that you are writing about it, expressing your feelings... well thats all i can think about for now.. anon..