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munachi Jun 2018
I can never cut.
But sometimes I swear,
It feels like wounds are being carved into my heart,
And I wonder if carving these wounds unto my skin
Can relieve it.
This kind of pain you can’t reach;
No matter how far into yourself you stretch,
If I could grab my heart and squeeze it till it is numb;
Like I would if the knife slips;
Till all the red in my finger fades away;
Till all the pain in my heart fades away.

I can never cut.
Except with the words I stick myself with everyday.
You taught me how to self-harm, I took the blade from you,
And convinced myself that it hurts less if I’m the first one to say it;
That if I kept cutting at my heart,
If I kept giving myself scars,
Then the ones you gave me didn’t matter.
And I never let them heal;
The wounds,
They never heal.

I can never cut.
Because for the life of me I cannot get accustomed to pain.
I cannot get accustomed to you hurting me over and over again.
I cannot get accustomed to bleeding inside.
My wounds are too afraid to be seen.
My wounds refuse to etch themselves unto my skin;
To be so bold.
I cannot wear myself inside out;
My pain inside out.
But I swear,
When these wounds are being carved into my heart,
I consider if carving them unto my skin,
Will ever relieve the pain.
please don't cut.
Shadow Dragon Jun 2018
Since they cut
my long heavy
navel string
they too
cut the feeling
of love.

Attachment
was never present
in the same
jointed way
that I once
felt thoroughly.

Then came
one who too
had a
broken heart
who's navel
was fully hallow.  

One who
would use the
navel string
to wrap it
around my neck
till I choked.

I realised
then
that
you made me scared of the word,
love,
because you used it in the wrong way.
Geanna Jun 2018
He cuts his skin
He cuts it deep
He pulls the trigger
He's fast asleep
~ G.P.O
Geanna Jun 2018
1 cut
2 cuts
3 cuts
4
As much as it takes, I must do more
5 cuts
6cuts
7cuts
8
Oh my, it'll be too late
9 cuts
10 cuts
11 cuts
12
It's an addiction now, oh well
~ G.P.O
Tara Jun 2018
It started very long ago
The bruises started small
Evolved into scarred wrists
My mother keeps crying sadly
I’ve disappointed her
She used to brag about my sculpted body
Now she glares at my scarred abs
Summer used to be my favorite
Now winter is the best
It started voluntarily
Now I can’t quit.
Sorry about the short little mind blurb about my self harm struggle.....
Kiahlee Jun 2018
I'm sorry to say.
I cut again today.
Poetic T Jun 2018
My view of the world
           through rose tinted glasses.

I hope that we can pick up roses
      hand them to each other
rather than point weapons upon
                       brothers & sisters.
But a rose is a sour beauty
for even thorns can bleed
              deeper than a dull sword.

We must speak to each other find
             solace in others humanity.
For words can heal rifts that started
                 long before we were born.
But syllables latching on to the misgivings
                      of insecurities can wound.
Like papercuts on the mind,
        speaking to the shallow cradles swinging
        in a hateful wind of whispers flawed.

I wear glasses that I take of every now
          and then, I have a idealistically flawed
view seeing the potential of us.
But knowing we can fall harder
                                      than when can get up.
Anthony Mayfield Jun 2018
Shards of silver,
Broken glass.
Here I am.
Once again, I hurt myself,
and red I bleed.
I'm a lonesome man.
Here I am.

Shards of silver,
From tainted hands.
Once again, I turn away,
so I can't see.
Red I bleed.
I can't see.
I'm a wholesome man.
Here I am.

Shards of silver,
Broken glass.
Here I am.
I won't let you
see the real me
Red I bleed.
I'm a broken man.
Here I am.

I won't let you
understand me.
I can't see.
Red I bleed.
I can't see.

Shards of silver,
From tainted hands.
Here I am.
Red I bleed.
Here I am.
I can't see.
Here I am.
help me
Here I am
red
all over the place and hard to collect, just like shards of jagged broken glass
Kirill Jun 2018
Vicious lies, like knives, They cut.
Stabbed in the back, the eyes and gut.
Couplet
Lilly Jun 2018
"She does it for attention"
Wrong
Attention is what made me start in the first place
Getting noticed
Coming out
It was all a mistake
This is what happens when the quiet girl tries to change
People talk
"****"
"*****"
"Thot"
They all say this
Attention?
Don't I have enough "attention" focused on me already?
Them noticing me
That is why I started
And my home life isn't much better
Safety
It doesn't exist
Trust
Can only be broken so many times
So I take my blade to my skin
Not for you
Or anyone else
But for me
So I can feel something
Cause you make me numb
So I can get what I deserve
Like you say I should
My promises
Broken
Promises
Or
Empty words that don't mean ****
My life isn't as perfect as my smile tells
So I take the blade
To new places on my body
I'm sorry
But attention is what got me here

--StoryMakerInProgress
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