Untitled

When I cry

I don't make a sound

Just come

down

I can hide

my hurt

with laughing

or smiling

that way

no one will

know that inside

I'm crying

I'll write

some poems

wince once or

twice

If you've touched

A spot that's

been sliced

by a knife

Don't hurt

If a pill or

two were

swallowed

Don't take much

If your willing

to slowly

end your

life with one strike

one blow

to the wrist

And to think

It was just

one silent

Tear to begin

with