I will eternally force feed myself your pain if that means you will be free from it.
Your hurt is like ******, it makes me a heroine.
Decades of your pain pours through me.
I painted all these scars
Each one cherry red with bright hues.
In hopes it would help you and teach you not to be blue.
Perhaps, if I hold on to all this pain then seeing it on me
A person who's still shiny and new
It will release you
The blood stains me but it hurts less when I have your hands washing it off my wrists and legs.
I spend a lifetime near cold bathroom sinks, pushing myself and body to the brink,
Whether it be drugs or drink your pain surpassed all of these addictions.
Now I'm left to clean up myself now you aren't there to take what's left from my shape.
I suppose it was too much to expect you to do the same now your pain has consumed me.
Did you use me?
A poem about a relationship.
I know that demons hide inside of me
They make themselves a home
They succeed in making me feel alone
Isolation is all that I know
I long for the day when I can feel something that is real
Full of despair and loneliness
The malevolent cling to me
With their sinister yet strangely comforting grip.
I long to be free
I tear open my skin hoping they'll fly away
I don't want to give in.
Another one of mine from an old journal
I'd like to take away my pain
I want to wash away all my fear
I wish I didn't feel so intensely
That it almost can't be real.
Another old one I thought I'd share
To many feelings
They whirl around inside my head
I wish I could silence them all.
Maybe I can when I'm dead.
This is a poem I wrote when I was a teenager. I've been looking through old notebooks.
I am reborn In your heart
I love the warmth that only your shape can give to me.
You engulf me in the warmth that I can only compare to that of the womb.
I never want to leave
Like a sweet dream
I don't want to wake up
Your warmth is my slumber
Wrapping myself around the umbilical cord.
You say my heart is cold but you thawed the ice
I breathe in bated hopes
They pore out of every crevice of my body
I wish I could stop submitting to this beautiful pain
But without this only comfort I know.
Living would be just to hard to sustain.
I come from where stars have been long forgotten.
I am from the moon.
Made up of tiny fragments from bated hopes.
You are made up of violet skies,
Whilst I’m made up of nothing but blue.
I wish I could tell if your intentions were true.
Just one of my poems I thought I would share here.
— The End —