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S Aug 2014
I think of you far too often, and even though many people would say that this is a "good" thing,
for some reason I can only find it negative,
as I am planning on leaving soon,
and I am fond of you,
so I do not wish to give you any ideas of false hope,
or lead you on with blatant encouragement,
though I am constantly seeing your face in my mind
when I do the simple tasks,
for example I was putting away my clean dishes
and I saw a glimpse of you
when I opened the kitchen cabinet,
and in that moment I thought you were really there with me,
until I realized that you are actually at home,
probably in your bed like I am right now,
and are you bed sheets black like mine are and do you want tattoos,
because I think that when they are placed properly on the body they can be quite tasteful,
I can't stop my mind from flooding out images of us,
and it hurts me to think
that I won't be seeing you every day,
and I loathe it and I love it and I loathe how much I love it,
make it stop
because I don't think that a world without you would be so bright,
even though you do not think that you should be in it anymore,
but just know that your loss would hurt more then
ten thousand paper cuts.
LoveIsReal Jul 2014
Cuts
All you see around you is people who cut,
You can't run away from it, though you've tried
They are always following you
Even when you hide.
Your friends, your family?
They don't understand.
Once you've started you can't help but stare
They're gonna be there until the very end.
you've left the mark now you have to bear
The pain you tried to leave but was to weak to see it near.
It consumed you until you couldn't breath again.....
Ariana Jul 2014
You watched me stumble until I
had no choice but to fall.
You made me feel as if I
were worth nothing at all.
The broken promises you made
were the cuts that never healed.
I always tried my hardest
to keep my feelings concealed.
I don't know why I let you cause me pain.
I now realize that this was all in vain.

~Ariana
Syreena Phelps Jul 2014
The deeper the cuts,
the more they bleed.
The longer the cuts,
the less you'll need.

More medication,
for doctor's greed.
Sie Jul 2014
I fell in love
Not with a person but an object
An object of  cold silver metal
The dark marks left on my wrists
Were just the many thoughts in my head
This might be the last time i love
If it's not i guess i'll just try again
orion j Jun 2014
only ever caught a glimpse of love off of your windshield
nothing more than a reflection

closest encounter of such was when the windscreen shattered upon intimacy,
leaving these….. bruises i can’t get over

a colour somewhere in between azure and lavender that remains unclassified and unlabelled as of now
things without a name, like majority of the past and various faces.
i’ll admit i’ve lost sight of some.

some i’ve spent trying to recollect in contrast of being haunted by various locations i’ve yet to gather the courage to re-encounter
unavoidable, i’ve learnt.
too many to count using just two hands.


you’ve sewn the teensy bits of sadness in between your fingers
if anything they’re filling the gap that managed to find its way to you
scarred and bruises but darling you look fine, if not better off.

when it’s your time to go, wouldn’t you want the cuts to show?
snow queen Jun 2014
when did i become
a ticking time bomb
ready to expload
at any given time
how did anxiety
make me this fragile
im scared
                    one day
im going to not be able
to put back together
after an explosian.               (s.q)
snow queen Jun 2014
~
you know youre addicted
to self harm
when you start noticing
the scratches, scars
and bruises on others
and you wish
they were on your skin
not theirs

(s.q)
Do you know?
All the pain caused,

Do you know?
I'm ashamed because,

Do you know?
Of those marks on my arms,

Do you know?
I wish would end.
So, it's terrible. Yep.
Lauren Meschelle Jun 2014
i was told to do something positive with my thoughts
like writing them down on paper
as if somehow that would mean that they are no longer inside of me
but even after all of those pathetic letters were crafted into words that got scrambled across the page
every single thought is still trapped in my mind, begging to be let out
so now i am being forced to use a silver blade as a pen and my fragile wrist as the paper
in hopes that these viscious thoughts will flow out of my veins with the blood that drips down to the floor
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