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.

Looking at it from 10 inches
Look away
"No, no not again" etched in your mind
Yet the vulnerability of your heart aches for it
Stretching for it ..
Pulling back ..
Leaning forward ..
Turns away..
Grabs it..
It's in your hand..
You smile ..
Your heart pleased
Your mind unease
One,
Two,
Three..
Tears fall uncontrollably
Blood spilling easily
One,
Two,
Three..
Stop?
No..
You smile even wider..
One,
Two,
Three..
Love.
Is the blade sharp enough.. ?

-fir.m

"Can I offer you a drink sir?"
He didn't flinch,
Reacting with such demur.
He resembled grief to the last inch.
Maybe he didn't hear me.
"Sir? In need of a whiskey perhaps?"
Maybe it needn't be,
But it seemed as if he was ought to collapse.
Cigarette slipped between his teeth.
Leaking wounds along his hands.
I soon noticed the blade beneath.
I knew then that he is one who understands.
His head stayed down,
Hidden behind a defence of stubble.
Long last, he came around.
"Make it a double."