they all say stop.
but how can i.

all i say to them is stop.
but how can they.

the darkened spiral,
that is my life.
covered with small dropletts
of bright red blood.

and they still say stop.
and they yell,
and don't talk to me.

but i don't care.
what is the point of talking,
when no one cares,
and no one listens.

what's the point of life,
if no one cares,
and no one listens.

what is the point of it,
they all ask me.

yet,
i cannot respond.

fore i know no answer to that very quesion,
in which they all ask.
ask with no intension of reciving a reply.

so i just turn around,
and i run.

i run to the bathroom,
where i lock myself in the stall,
where no one can find me.

i pull my legs up around me,
my tears,
seeping through my jeans,
and into my cuts.

into my scars,
and burning.

they all burst in to the bathroom,
looking for me.
they seem to care,
but i shall not be tricked again.

fore i was tricked once before.
they said they cared,
yet,
they did not.

so i sit there,
silently sobbing my life away.
picking up the exacto knife,
sliceing my skin.
the knife drops out of my hand,
and clatters on the floor.

they are still there.
they heart it.

katie runs for it,
seeing that is is covered in blood,
whe starts yelling at the locked door.
knowing that i am withheld inside.

and i still sit there.
locked in that place,
where no one cares.
where no one listens,
waiting for my life to end.

 
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