Living a lie

Who wants violence?
Dark dreams;
Evil screams.
Hold on strong.
The fight is nearly gone.
Fighting to breath.
Fighting to see.
It’s hard to believe this is me.
I never saw myself falling to the blade,
But in the end this is how I’m paid.
Suffering from tears.
Torn from fears.
All I know,
I’m not sure why I’m here.
Told to live,
But living a lie.
Stuck in a place where everyone wants me to die.
Hurt and confused.
Broken and bruised,
Not sure what to do,
But I will fight till I can’t move.
This is what I must do.

I wrote this poem about a year ago. I wrote it when I was getting over my addiction of cutting. I was having a withdraw I guess you could say. I wanted to feel what my body had gotten used to but I took up writing instead of cutting and this poem is the symbol of me being nearly a year basically free from trying to commit suicide.

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Martha Lopez
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