Let's play "Whose tragedy is worse"
Show me all your battle scars
The zones where your mind initiated war
Where you wrote "love" on your arms
And all you got was a t-shirt
Capitalizing on a loss of blood
into status updates
crying wolf is still a call for help underneath it all.
We all lead a masochistic path
Pushed by a self-destructive past
Razors tracing the way
Mapping out the suffering
Spilling blood like divine ink
Writing a story
Just remember it's not done
We are everything we thought we wouldn't be until we re-write our own history
They say time heals everything
But time is just another man-made
lie like reality
What if we're just addicted to being sad?
We get caught up in these negative thinking patterns
And never go back to count the blessings
Bad habits dying hard
Like a re-opened wound releasing endorphins
When something doesn't feel good anymore
or "no one cares about me anymore"
Yeah I get it you're broken
But we're all a little broken
It's not about ruminating on that missing piece/peace
It's about pulling yourself together
Find what's blocking the way and tear it down to size
Every hero story requires one last ordeal with the shadow
Exploit your demons
sleep with the true enemy
Don't devote yourself to a self-fulfilling prophecy
Learn to realize,
Life's one big question
Death has no answers
here's the thing
about self mutilation
it kills me
gives me what i need
and here's the thing about self mutilation
the red neediness
the cold pane from windows
i'm covered in it
i'm covered in red
across my eyelids
dripping from the scar tissue
and scars to be made,
and next year and next year
how I've missed you
Starts with depression,
Then comes the self-mutilation
Then comes the day where you've finally had enough,
And you feel like your done,
And you want to leave this world,
With one quick cut.
I could cry but tears don't bring change
Trapped in my surroundings
Why did those words neighbor my thoughts?
I guess words don't make people listen
The people need action
I'm my own minds puppet
Exhausted but not Lackadaisical
Bruised from self-mutilation
WHY WON'T YOU SPEAK UP?
As I slit my wrists
the words keep bleedin’,
mixing with the tears
and recognized fears.
Those hurtful words
and ugly sayings. I
cut again and continue
bleedin’, away the hate,
anger and frustration.
Venting is my self
mutilation. there are
no scars to hide when
I am done, I just wipe
my tears as my sadness
fades and the dawn passes
to another day...
Ostensibly, cutting is the most romantic
and worthwhile thing to write about,
and self-mutilation for stupidity's sake
is mistaken by the shallow for depth.
The way cutters flock to each others'
vapid melodrama makes me think
that cutting would probably be
a wildly successful religion for tools.
Celebrate your self-created pain,
embrace your futile power plays.
When Mommy and Daddy notice at last,
you'll finally get all that undeserved attention.
"to fall in love"
Is just a sign of being brainwashed
Is the human response to
fills the airways and is pure dementia
Only sadistic dumb fucks
Read a poem about self mutilation and respond
The heart can deceive those who wish to understand it.
What A man's heart is fond of is his own reflection to be judged.
The self satisfaction of giving never to receive is A most praised lesson in greed.
Yet to starve oneself of one wants is an act of self mutilation indeed.
If attention is what one deserves then to seize it really an act of vanity,pride,envy?