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My poems arent exactly happy ones so if you want to call me a depressed crazy person then feel free too
Here is the latest one

Dying inside
Not with weapons,
Just words.
They start with small things,
Muttered insults.
But they grow,
They turn nasty,
People wish for me to go,
For me to disappear,
Or to fight.
In the end it is too much,
And I turn on myself.
Cuts, bruises, blood,
Words, torments, tears.
So I die Inside,
Lost,
Because of them
My pain becomes the end.

Please dont take this because it is on my Deviantart page so if you try to post it there they will delete it stare
thank you
pwease tell me if its any good

http://angel-in-hellx.deviantart.com/