the SIED project
Support, Information & Expression: Daily life with self-injury

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Cutter

My arm hurts
The pain drips down
I can’t feel myself
These are the tears of a clown

I don’t feel alive
And I’ve been misled
And so I cry
But my tears are red

The blade is my friend
And my enemy too
She helps me escape
A world that screams you

I feel so alone
I’m down and dejected
This pain is my own
It’s me you’ve rejected

I know there has to be
A different answer to my hurts
A different kind of release
That doesn’t come in spurts
There are lines on my arm
Now I add more
I can’t help this
Things are different than before

It’s an addiction
A drug that I crave
A release that I need
And it’s made me its slave

I’m falling out of grace
The pain; it feels so good
This is the ecstasy I feel
Whether or not I should

And when I hurt myself
For whatever reason I do
There are a few short seconds
That I don’t think of you.

My arm is feeling numb
I’m fading back to dark
My life could well be over
Your bullet’s hit its mark

I know you never meant to hurt me
Or meant to make me cry
But now it is too late
And I wish that I could die

© Lindsay McKenna

a long time ago… sometimes it’s the people that we love that hurt us the most…


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This page was last updated Friday, 1 February 2008.
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