there are places that hurt
more than the cut under your toe.
The familiar images of a girl with strength
and a guy with heart
and feelings that can be reasoned.
I found them everywhere in stories
but not in life.
Mostly they were just weak people
who learnt how to live with their heart.
And loved and let themselves be loved
with the faults that they had.
people who were – what they were.
No love or devotion
promising to change them into lovable beings.
Especially when ‘lovable’ was defined
by people who didn’t approve certain lives
and certain love.
And the perfect image of love
and notion of the perfect people who deserved it
made me think of the emotions we cut from our heart.
Leaving us little more empty,
taking us a little more far
from the perfect life that we were told to have.
I wish I had a real scalpel-
Something to reconstruct my form
I'll snap on some rubber
Up to my elbow in sanitary protection
Slice my muscle away from my hip bone
Tear a clean line down to my belly button
Open up my nakedness
Unwrap my skin and redistribute me
From my jaw to my shoulders
From my sternum to my pelvis
From my coccyx to my metatarsals

I lost hope a lifetime ago-
Simply an impossible fantasy
I was given a meatsuit too small
A vessel that will never adjust to reality
Up to my fingertips in warm protection
Layer after layer pretending to bulk up
Nothing hangs on my crooked frame quite right
I know what will fit
In the space between my eyes
I'm coughing on all the chemicals in here
And I was always told to go out with a bang

I need to lose this billion dollar industry-
The luxurious parasite that feasts
First on my distended abdomen
Then onto my mal-hued mind
Lastly on my desperate soul
Stab my disfigured thigh with blissful needles
Syringes to reshape this prison
Leaving scars, bruises, bruised
Better than the white mouths
That once kissed my misshapen arms
Up to the wrist in longsleeve protection

So now I'll tolerate alternate forms
Of self destruction and creation
Dangerous coping mechanisms
For my invisible agony and despair
I'll conceal it all with faux angst
Nonexistent torment kept under wraps
I'll settle with cutting the fingers off my gloves
Still unable to hide my hands
When the friends are cheaper than the pills
What am I supposed to buy?
When the sex don’t do and horror thrills
Shall I laugh or shall I cry?
When the high lasts longer than a word
Which am I supposed to take?
When the dream is sharp and reason’s blurred
Do I sleep, am I awake?
When the body’s hotter than the heart
Will it keep me warm at night?
When the love hurts better than the dart
Shall I kiss or shall I bite?
When the egos bigger than the deeds
Which am I supposed to praise?
When we cut the wounds and not the weeds
Is it life or just a phase?
Carter Ginter Mar 15
I'm sitting in the bathroom
A knife in my hand
My cats near my feet
How could I do this darkness
In front of such sweet angels?
But still I do
The blood begins to sprout
And halfway through
I wonder why I'm so crazy?
Why am I even upset?
Why am I doing this?
And yet I only feel this calm
Because of the pain
And for the first time in a few days
I finally feel ok
Carter Ginter Mar 15
Red lines red lines
Like tiger stripes
Across my shin
I want them across my wrist
My forearms and back too
Tigers are strong and fearless
Brave in the face of death
Maybe that's what I'm looking for
Carter Ginter Mar 15
Things are constantly changing
But these scars on my skin make me feel better
Because even if everything else falls apart
I know they're always there for me
yúyīn Mar 4
Cut me open and let all the ink run from these veins,
until my words bleed dry, and only blank pages remain.
When I started loving you, the rain started coming and didn't stop falling for years. It eventually turned into a storm and destroyed what was left of me.

The room I'm in became suffocating, and the walls and the ground became colder. The alcohol tasted better than what I feel, and I drink and drink, hoping that the cure for this madness is at the bottom of one of these bottles.

The days got shorter, the nights got longer, and I think the sun has lost its shine because I've been seeing dark clouds outside my window for a very long time. The night sky became starless, and I think the moon ran away? and I go outside and walk and walk every night on this empty street with that orange light thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I walk more, I'll get tired and I'll eventually wake up from this nightmare.

The tears didn't stop ever since, and the cuts became deeper. The blood from my skin became comfort, and the pain became better than anything else. I think my sanity has left me and I hear myself screaming. With hands on my hair, voices in my head, telling me I was wrong, and that I deserve all of this. They say that you are right for telling me those hurtful words, and I'm starting to believe them because maybe they're right?

My hands got shakier, and everything became unstable. The corner of the room became my safe haven, and my heart is wilder than ever, escaping from my rib cages, will go anywhere, anywhere but from here. I'm in a state where I don't know where I am anymore. I just keep on bleeding and bleeding and maybe one day, all of this will stop.

The screaming of my heart will stop. The blood will stop. The pain will stop. And then I will be able to look at you in the eyes and finally say, "I don't want you anymore."

But for now, let me rest my head on my knees, blood dripping from my wrists, sanity slowly slipping, and my heart losing.
Poetic T Feb 23
Words are sometimes
                   like a blunt knife,
           they can cut over time
and you don't realize that itch
is but the blade edging deeper
under the guise of an scratch.

Sometimes people can stab
                                 you slowly,
and you never realize that
even though by your side.
their hand Isn't holding you,
              but the hilt pushing it deeper
with snake smiles coloured as friendship.
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