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What's so bad?

A question I was asked,

So much you don't know,

So much you don't understand,

You can't say you've been through it all,

That's a lie,

Even I know there is more pain out there,

And I hope not to meet its acquaintance.



I've kept my mouth shut for seventeen years,

I've opened my skin and let the blood pour,

I've cried alone in the bathroom at night,

In two hours you would ask if I was okay,

I'd shrug your hand off my shoulder,

I told you I was fine,

But now is the time to answer your question,

This is what's so bad:



I'm addicted to cutting,

You ignored me from ages seven to eleven,

Age twelve you mysteriously entered my life,

I attempted suicide at age seven,

I attempted again at age thirteen,

I'm not a virgin,

I was almost raped at age fifteen,

I was raped at age sixteen,

I am the heart of every joke,

There are more rumors about me than stripes on a zebra,

Life stresses me out,

I dreamed only about death one month,

I was almost murdered,

I draw homicidal and sucidal pictures,

I worship Satan,

I practice black magic,

I curse people for revenge,

I am cursed,

I hate humanity and the shit they deal,

I pop motrin pills when I get sad,

And no one seems to understand.



Nothing is handed to me on a silver platter,

There is no handing at all,

I have to take what I feel should be mine,

It might end up being a giant mistake,

I know I have done some things wrong,

And for these things I have regret,

But there are things that I love to do,

I will continue cutting til my death comes through.