Pigment caked under my nails.
Tasting the metallic remnants of a lost childhood.
The reality is hidden in visions and supposed dreams.
Fed to me, was the comforting hugs of mother and soothing lies.
Grew up in the age of paid horror.
A new appendage is cheaper than keeping the original.
Marked by the price of my body.
Each fall, subtracting, each workout, adding.
Beauty is a curse nowadays.
Each beautiful child is raised and sold for millions.
Each ugly child prays to be one of the lucky to receive the new parts.
Greedy families hope for attractive offspring,
to disassemble for a new future.
A pair of brilliant green eyes can change your luck.
Having blue eyes guarantees you to be blind.
Leaving you with shades to cover the hollow left behind.
Adults will tell you sports lead to a promising future.
But they don’t tell you that it’ll lead you to losing your body.
Self-harm is a death sentence. A cut drops your value.
It forces you into the career of taking. Taking the beauty from the beautiful.
Cutting a limb or two won’t hurt them. Taking an eye is just life.
Tell yourself they should know better. They should’ve expected it.
Expect the unexpected when you are beautiful. Expect a life of pain.
Expect misery and lose those emotions when you are ugly. You won’t need that conscience.
Forget about the forgotten already. Use that arm to grab a new leg.
Use your head to get a better one.
Use your emptiness to end others. They won’t need that life.
And don’t forget, to use your misery.
The more miserable you are, the better off the world is when you end it.
What do you think of this poem?
It starts with curiosity
It starts with impulse
One cut here
One cut there
It wont get out of hand
This awful addiction
You know it's wrong
So you cover it up
Kiss swimming goodbye
You can't swim in long sleeves
The habit never ends
You know it's true
The pull is always there
Waiting for you
Soft and white
Aside from a few lines
Scarred and rough
Raised along different points of the wrist
Hundreds of lines on this one
Bruises from a tight grip
Soft little lines
Not noticeable to anyone
but the wrist
Cried into often
Soft and pale
Yet no one notices
The little signs
The stars shine bright
as the moon emits light
It's all prettier than I write
I write about depression
and my daily confessions
It's easier to write
than to fight
most of the time
I write by candlelight
or so I wish
I instead write by a LED light
The one I bought on wish
but that's not the important bit
The sun & the moon
will always upstage
The rage bubbles
Like lave trapped in a cage
The pain troubles
my poor little page.
I write about madness
my poor little brain
it feels me going mad
As I write my last refrain
The happiness seeping in
as the voices try to win
They aren't doing a very good job
cause they soon turn into a blob
The happiness lets me know I won
the war of surviving a day more
I let the sadness go
As I reach for the light
to let the good dreams come
after another day won
The warm rays of the sun on my back
The soft wet grass underneath my feet
Soft clouds glide across the sky above
The birds chirping morning melodies
Close your eyes and open them
Welcome back to the real world
The cold rain pouring on my back
The muddy debris filled grass no one steps in
The overly polluted sky
The cawing crows
Reality really bites
I lifted my head
From my hospital bed
To find an IV
And some meds
"Am I dead"
I say aloud
A scary grin on his face
And eyes that lust for my death
He takes a step in my direction
With a knife in his left
"So long my good friend"
With a creepy grin
Before my very ****** death