This is about a poem I wrote, I write a lot of poetry and in this commentary I’ll call it, you can decide who it's about, whether it's someone you know, or you could make them up and the reason why. Enjoy…I guess :S and please review and tell me what you think.

Summary: Rated for suicide. Sometimes you just want to scream…I did, I screamed in pain…screamed in shame…and screamed with regret, as I ended my pain. Plz review.

Scream

I want to scream into the night…

I sat at my window…gazing out into the dark sky, the moon was shining alone, no stars graced it with their presence tonight.

To scream as loud as I’d like…

I was the moon, alone, shining alone until it disappears, but the stars would come out and surround the moon, and that’s where our resemblance ends. You see the stars will never come out for me…there are no stars anymore.

I flinch as my wrist gives a throb, I look down into my lap…maybe I should inform you, at the moment I’m doing something that no person should do, my lap is covered in my own crimson blood, it had dripped slowly from the wound…to slowly slide down from the knife...or my wound on to my hands, only to fall into my lap to be absorbed in my clothing.

My mouth is clenched, I’m biting back a scream, you see I’ve been doing this for awhile now, but my family and my friends don’t know, if they knew they’d be so disappointed in me…you see you wouldn’t expect this from me, I seem…perfect but i'm not, I’m not good enough to stand in any of my of friends shadows never mind hang around with them

I want to scream as the knife cuts my skin,

I cut the skin that’s already paper thin.

Then I realize with a smile…no one's here, they went out for the evening, I’m not sure where, I wasn’t listening when they knocked my door, I just kept my eyes shut as I slashed the paper thin skin of my wrist again, my scars will probably never fade. Always remind me on how I wasn’t good enough, how weak I was, I can’t even finish what I’ve started. I’m a coward.

I sit here tears streaming down my face, if I was really brave I’d do this with determination. no one else would cry out in pain as the knife cut deeply into their skin, mind you they wouldn’t even do this, they’re better than that…I am weak.

I want to scream as the tears stream down,

And scream at the crimson blood I’ve found.

If the others are gone…I can scream I can scream long and loud, I can release all the feelings that are hammering against my head and my heart. I hold my knife in a hard grip and slash again, this time instead of biting my lip to keep quiet I let it out…and loudly too.

I scream as I think of him,

Scream out my feelings which he caused,

He did this to me, he made me so hopeless, and so afraid that I’ve reduced myself to cutting my skin, well I'm only saying this to take the blame from me…I just want an excuse so I can’t reason with myself, tell myself that this is wrong, it doesn’t matter anyway, my scream grows louder as I take another slash of my skin, blood squirts out this time onto my face, my eyes widen as I taste the blood on my lips.

It drips down into myparted mouth and I wince at the taste of my own blood.

I feel my skin scream as my knife is forced.

I want to scream in my frustration that no one cares…

If my friends and family really cared for me, they would’ve noticed how I’d changed, how I didn’t act like I used to, I’ve grown…distant I don’t help, I don’t argue, I don’t do anything. I’m alone.

He’s asked once, asked why I’d drawn myself away from the others, said he’s worried about me, but I know he’s lying, he’s too busy for me. Everyone’s to busy to notice me…to care.

I scream because I know no one is there.

I’d have normally stopped by now…I don’t normally go this far, but my scream is driving me, I can’t stop the screaming, I can’t stop the slashing, I can’t stop the tears, I can’t blood the blood. I can’t do anything but repeat this vicious cycle as I inflict more sickly satisfying torture.

I scream as I’m covered in my blood…

I look down at my body…it’s completely covered in my own blood, crimson is splattered around my arms, my gashes stand out as they drip slowly and silently, my hands start to feel weak, they start to pale as all the blood from them has leaked out.

I scream as I drop my knife with an echoing thud.

I can see my blood covered face in my mirror, my eyes wide, through the crimson I can see my skin start to pale, but my mouth is still open wide, screaming long and hard, it seems it’ll never stop.

I scream as my vision fades,

I scream at the price I’ve had to pay,

Things are starting to go blurry, I try to focus my sight, and control my body which is now shaking uncontrollably as I start to go cold.

As I scream as I end my all of my pain,

I scream as I feel my weaknesses and shame.

Then I start to realize as I kneel here on my bedroom floor, blood dripping onto the carpet from my wounds, it’s amazing that I have any blood left really. But before long I probably won’t.

I feel myself start to slip towards the ground, my screaming starts to falter as I grow too weak, finally all I can see is the red of my own blood.

I scream no more as my body reaches the ground.

Everything is starting to fade into darkness and I welcome it willingly, I can faintly feel the throbbing of my wrists as the last of my blood starts to seep away, wasted on the carpet of my floor.

I slowly start to close my eyes, knowing I’ll never open them again. I then start to wonder, are they going to be upset? Are they going wonder why? Then as my mind starts to fade away along with my soul, along with my blood I think.

Are they going scream?

Then maybe someone else shall scream when I’m found.

End.

So…what did you all think? who do you think this poem refers to?

Luvz ya!

Anwen

P.S, I’m not suicidal, and I DO NOT promote cutting, I just wrote this thinking how a person in that position would think.

P.P.S, I wrote this poem, so no stealing or else I’ll set my sister on to you! beware...she's a prepish (well she wud b if we lived in the USA buh i'm British, so I werent all this stuff frm gd old FF )

oooooh its very good, its so descriptive but it needs more of a story line, its like i siad about the ring 2, they spent the whole film trying to scare yu, yeah i know you havnt seen it, but in that, you spent the majority of it just her cutting herself, i think you should have more depth and explain maybe a bit furthur into it so we can see it better thru her yes, why she is doing it,

i couldnt have written it better tho lol

Dakota

******* That kicked ass! I love darkness, gore, and gothicness. Keep up the great work!

It's a difficult subject, but you did it very nicely. I think it belongs more in the new section, so I've moved it.