The Cutting CurseThe Cutting Curse7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Momma, see, I've got this curse,
I hurt myself; my God it hurts,
I tried to stop but it made me worse
I've cleaned more wounds than a full-time nurse.
I have this thing inside of me,
It just can't stomach me being me.
It turns and twists and I can't be free,
It burns, it cuts, it scratches me.
Momma, see, it's at it's worst,
I've lost control and how it hurts.
I tried to cope but I made it worse.
I needed help to kill this curse.
These scars are now a part of me,
These wounds a tragic diary.
I hope, I pray, I beg, I plead,
I cry, I scream, I bite, I bleed.
Momma, see, I'm all alone.
It doesn't matter if you're at home.
It doesn't matter if you care,
Soon enough I won't be there.