Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
JDMaraccini May 12
Composed society a system complex rotten and deformed
Unfettered anger frustration and anguish festering the storm
Putrid blisters of vile memories sobriety castrates the scorn
Impostor hypocrites who pose as friends devour each victims form
Again, again I plunge my pen this cauldron of memories mourned
Unspoken I vent forthright enigmatic in dreams I am reborn
Unbroken, unbent, unwavering, dramatic
I drag along the garden thorn
© JDMaraccini 2020
SS Oct 7
So finely woven
Entwined with threads of truth,
Of harsh realities
And with every cut,
The weight grows unbearable
And the unbearable becomes restless
Until your holding onto
Latching onto
Fingers burning onto
The last string
The last standing string
- that is Faith.
Haley Protega Sep 30
My lover has a scar
Just above her hipbone;
It's not a small ****,
a forgotten accident.
They're words -
Straight lines she etched

I trace my fingers softly,
Not to wake my love,
But I can't soften their bite.
Words of cruel warning,
An order, imperative.
Commanding, even faded,
Echo a silent scream.

They mock me, mock us,
For they still have a hold:
She is only half mine.
They hurt me, cold,
Like unblinking eyes,
Knowing that she stares back
Every day.

I barely brush them,
Intruders on soft skin,
Indelible scripture
Of darkness within.

And they keep whispering:
don't eat.
N Aug 28
Would my grave be
deeper than my wounds?

Would the warmth of the morning sun
still reach my cold forgotten body?

Would Icarus, my bird, fly to the sun looking for me,
is my selfish death going to cost him his wings, too?

Would the worms weep when
they ******* tormented flesh?

Would the lines I wrote no longer
be read as poems but suicide notes?
Empire Aug 19
tw self harm

If I wasn’t worried about scars...

I... I wouldn’t stop...

I’d go over and over and over again
Pulling the blade across my arm
Use all the space now
Fill it all in
Til there’s nothing left
Nothing untouched
My forearms bleeding and raw...
Because... well...
If I wasn’t worried about scars...
There’d be no reason to stop
Empire Aug 18
tw self harm

I should regret it
I should regret every pull of the blade
Every drop of blood spilt
I should... I should I should...

Why don’t I...?

I wanted to bleed
I accomplished that

I wanted it to hurt
I suppose it likely did...

I wanted red.
I found it.

I wanted peace
So I made it.
Anastasia Aug 11
crimson beads
on a pale wrist
blade digging
white-knuckled fist
tears flood
from sparkling eyes
wishing for
a quick demise
a painful love
piercing heart-flesh
lips like velvet
on cuts still fresh
a dream of a lover
of someone so sweet
a lovely human
to make me complete
Empire Aug 8
tw self harm

Haha... I’m drowning in Neosporin
Finally my leg decides to sting
Rhythmic pain
From the line after line after line after line after line after line after line after line after line after line after line after line after line after line and line and line and line line line line line line line line line line line line....    .       .           .             .
That I drew in
Desperate for feeling
An awakening of my heart
Instead... with each line the realization set in
I’m too far gone
Too disconnected to feel anything
I practically laughed at the wounds...
Wondering what purpose they might possibly serve
When nothing within even feels alive
What began as a resuscitation attempt
Turned swiftly into an autopsy

And ****... I don’t even care that I’m out of gauze
I’ve done this before
It’ll heal eventually
Not like it matters anyway....
Empire Aug 1
tw self harm, suicidal thoughts

There’s nothing for me here

There will be no love for me

It’s just... it’s not possible
I’ve suspected it for so long
But tonight I know it’s true
There’s no one to care

There’s nothing

Just me and my suffering

No words to comfort me
No arms to hold me
No lips to kiss me

I can feel the end in me tonight
It reaches out to offer its hand
A sweet relief
A few pills and you could be done...

But in my agony I know I must not stop now
And in my frustration I crave comfort
I require distraction
I want to drink it away.... but I cannot tonight
Instead my hand reaches again for the blade
Now shrouded in a new guilt
Because I know I’ve lied to you....
But I couldn’t give you the truth...

So tonight
I’ll silence the agony
With a shallow, swift slash
Next page