A Cut

There is a lot of violence,
As i sit and suffer in silence.
One cut leads to many more,
And soon my skin becomes all torn.
I watch my blood drip-
Then I put my hand to my lip,
Just to make sure I don't scream-
Wondering if this is all just a dream.
But I realize it's not,
As this battle inside is fought.
This pain is so real,
And as sad as I feel,
I wish my heart would just heal.
But it won't...
Just too many damn times it's been broke.
So the consequence is this,
And that is...
The cut of my wrist.

It's a little weak...i tried my best.
thanks for reading my poems.
it means a whole lot to me. :D