A Painful Poem

I must have written this poem a few years ago, but I read it and was amazed at the way I sounded and wanted to share it.

My conscience tells me to stop,
but the Devil tells me to go.
The blade running down my skin,
oh so slow.
And the trickle that comes after...
is a relief you'd never believe
the pain flows away
Only to leave a scar always to be seen
That is why my mind tells me to stop
so others don't look at me weird
but who are they to judge?
I "don't give a fuck" right?
Wrong, I look in the mirror and am disgusted with the beast I see,
but I would never tell anyone, because they would believe me
The truth is all too real,
and the longing is all too near
and I want to hurt him more
than the blade is not a fear
I feel like an addict
Searching for the blade
stealing from my father
So I can let go of the rage
It's like a hole I can't dig myself out of
A grave I have filled with alcohol, drugs, and "fun"
I cant think straight in human encounters, and the thought of loving him is a disaster
When you fall so fast all there is left to face is error
Error that won't leave, not even by my blood
All I want to do is heave
and throw up my fucked up head
One minute I am happy
a second passes
and the whole world is crappy
I want to run and HIDE, never to be seen again
The pain overwhelms me, and I can't seem to get it out from within
It engulfs my laughter, like the Devil threatens the pastor
My heart is wobbling and this teeter totter only goes downhill
So all I'm waiting for is to get out of this mind I call hell

I wish I could share this but no one could understand
without worrying for me and trying to lend a hand
This shit means something, but not all bad.
I just want to let go of the fake smile, and not be so mad
I don't want to talk to any PhD
cus all they do is judge me
And I don't want anyone to see this deep inside
because this is all I hide
I feel like someone would run,
like I had a loaded gun,
and I can't have Him know this side of me,
for fear he'd leave me be.
Alone I dig myself further into this hole.
A grave I thought I had covered many years ago.