Stains [Poem]

[YesterdaysNews]

Cut.Cut. Drip.Drip.
That's the sound of my blood
Dripping on your perfectly polished
White tile bathroom floor.
I hope it stains.
I hope it leaves a lasting impression that even bleach cannot hide.
I hope you see what I've done.
Every.
Fucking.
Day.
Instead of what you didn't when you still had the chance.
Mark it as taboo, threaten but didn't follow through.
I needed help but you didn't want to realize that.
You didn't want to know that your daughter had a problem.
So you forgot.
My problem is an addiction.
I can't stop on command like you think.
This is my final cry for attention.
I hope you notice.