Dented Walls

Can't deal anymore
Last night I was so bad
I took my razor
With only a small dot
Of dried blood on it
But when I set it back down
It was covered
Almost completely

I took it to the large vein
On my left wrist
Didn't go across it
But followed it down
For not even an inch
But I went deep
And over it a few times
To keep the blood coming

After awhile
I grew bored of the blood
And wanted more pain
To bring onto myself
So I left the cut bleeding
And looked for some way
To just cause pain
Without the blood

I took a pencil
And dug into my leg
Pushing and pushing
But once blood came
I needed a different way
To cause more pain

I began punching my legs
But that was not enough
To only have pain on my legs
So I slowly stood up
Trying not to collapse
On my legs screaming with pain

I threw my chair to the side
Clearing a space on my wall
For me to throw myself against
But there was too much space
For me to collapse on
So I moved into my closet
Just enough room
For throwing myself around

I slammed into my dresser
And got a handle to my spine
But I barely slowed down
Just let out a short gasp
As I winced at the sharp pain
I was careful though
To not hit my face
And leave many bruises
Where people could see
Although I know
My arms are covered
From the non-stop throbbing

The bruises are faint though
At least on my arms
They're never that dark
When it comes to my arms
But the ones on my legs
Are a deep purple now
And in the middle of my back
Is the worst of all

I don't care though
If the scars and the bruises
Make my body ugly
Because my soul is too
You would never understand
How scarred I really am
Because what I told you
In this poem of mine
Is just one secret
I've let out to the world
But no one will know
How many nights I did this
Beat myself up
Until I could no longer stand
I must admit
That it almost makes me laugh
That you thought cutting
Was the worst it could get