Another Poem

This is another poem that I wrote when I was bored last night. I felt a little depressed and this poem really explains what my life is like.
(HINT: The title is a little extreme. It's Slit Wrists but I do NOT cut myself. It just explains that I feel like that happens sometimes)

Slit Wrists

pressure by a small blade
stupid people who don't give a shit
cold metal tearing skin
warm blood drips
ridicule is a bitch
perfection is impossible
anorexia is really fucked up
obesity is heart-breaking
no one understands
no one gives a shit
no one gets the point of hardship
with nothing to turn to
nothing but a blade
it's hard to push away
when it treats you like a slave
being an outcast
can be cruel
with no one to turn to
no wonder i'm in this grace
wishing i hadn't fucked everything
up
wishing my only thing to turn to wasn't
slit wrists....



this poem,like the other, is pretty self-explanatory.....it's just about the pain i go through....