One More Day


I wish people could understand, that I am not suicidal.
Cutting just keeps me calm. I do not know how many times
that I have dragged a needle...or a razor...across my own skin,
I lost count....a long time ago. Now? I just wish that I could stop!
I wish that my mother understood..I made it through another day.
Nothing interesting happened but that is just given.
My name is Carrie,I am 17 years old.
I live in a small house in a small town.
My hair is brown and my eyes are green.
My wrists are slit, and my legs are carved.
Fat, ugly..perfect
I am all of these things.
I am not skinny. I do not have many friends
My teachers think I'm crazy
My dad doesn't talk to me.
Everything is numb,maybe it is time to give up..
Nobody needs me anyway
These are things that cross my mind everyday.
Maybe tonight I will do it.
Cut too deep,swallow a handful of pills?
But I am not brave enough I can never take that final step.
but if I were to reach the edge?
Would there be anybody to pull me down?
Would anybody catch me at the bottom of the ledge?
Like I said, life sucks,
no one really understands,no one really knows..
I have to give it One..More..Day.

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