It's been awhile since our last encounter;
When I laid you to my skin.
We used to be inseparable;
You always were there.
I ran to you when I couldn't handle
The pain I held inside.
My skin was your canvas,
For your ****** art.
I'm strong now,
That's why we've grown so far apart.
I've regained my strength,
From your wicked games.
My scars have become a reminder,
Of our last dance.
I have escaped from your grasp,
I'm finally free.

Blades of smoke pass through my hair,
Cutting; oxidising; as the smoke is slowly rising
through the tower of my power as I vainly gasp for air.

Cyanide, it seems, can comfort me a while,
as I'm breathing; screaming and repeating
smoky words into the floor's mute bathroom tile.

But my power is all gone; all wrong.
Oxidise: Cyanide.
Once more into my lungs.

Father,
grandfather,
father's grandfather,

all died
by the blade.

Father's grandfather
fell fighting one hundred.

Grandfather
fell fighting too.

Father
fell fighting as well,

while protecting his
wounded troop.

All these men
put up a fight,

they did what they
had to do

It runs in our veins,
we stay the same,

destined to do
what we do.

Our grandmothers hug
our grandchildren,

while they still can

widows
tell their sons
when they're old
enough to use
a blade

so one day,
whenever my son

asks where father
went off to

tell him
it runs in our veins

tell him
I will see
him soon.

Never break a poets heart, she'll turn her sadness into art.
Dust and ashes you tore me apart.
Gave you my soul and you sealed my scars, I thought I'd let down my guard.
Broken to see you didn't love the real me, drunk in jealousy.
Fought for you but now I'm through - tears that burn, a lesson to learn.     You're nothing but a memory don't you see you're better off without me.
Depression returns, it earns to take control over my shattered soul.
Tight breathing I've lost feeling, no more concealing.
Twinge, torture of a familiar blade to no longer remember your name, a waste of talent written in a book but taken by a hook ... And a rope, to tie around a throat - pull.
Breathe - breath - death.

Faceless and so real,
Darkness had consumed the room,
Shadows of my fear walk closer towards my soul,
As I look up he's right above,
As I have lost all hope.

One thought goes by,
The sound goodbye,
As a mind quickly shuts down,
He's over head,
"Shush or you'll be dead"
Last words he dared to speak.

A heart raced through and out my chest,
I felt such pain inside,
Both physical amd emotional,
I do not dare to scream,
For if I do,
He'll count to two,
And the blade will pierce my soul.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros

From fields of sunshine
To dark and dusty basements
I followed you to the edge of the atlas
Yet I do it no more
Our paths will remain apart
As we've seen the edge
And you still choose to return
Enquiring why I do not
As you'll always have my back
Alas,
I know your secret
I saw the blade tucked
Away in your fist
You've got my back
Only to hoist your blade into it

My blood churns and swirls
As it goes down the drain.
It should hurt, it should sting
But I feel no pain.

Pleasure, warm and red leaves the cuts.
Out the slashes, comes the scars.
Self harm is not a trend.
Please, grow the **** up.

this morning i woke up,
With the feeling i haven't slept in days.
That my voice was gone forever,
but i took a deep breath,
"I can do this"
thats what i told myself
and I got out of bed,
and got dressed.
Went to school.
No breakfast, no lunch.
People were always making comment about me.
"Walk faster, you're slow"
Thanks i know, i don't have any energie.
That's what i said in my head.
"You're not eating."
Are you sherlock holmes? Yes i'm not eating, i'm not hungry
Or thats what i tell myself.
"You look sad"
I am, and i want to throw up.
But i did not say anything
"You look Fat I mean, more than usual."
Thanks. Realy thank.

When i got home,
I went in my room,
Cried in my bed.
Got up,
Took my favorite tool,
And made myself feel beter.
At lest, that's what i told myself when i was hiding the blood runing threw my finger.
That's what i tell Myself.