Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
N May 2020
I wear a sweater no
matter the weather

It keeps me warm
and hides my shame

Sometimes I forget
what my arms look like,
but every time I try to look

I see only the scars that has
slowly healed but never faded,
and I am reminded of my pain

And so I wear a sweater no
matter how hot the weather
I haven’t written anything in a month, I have lost my inspiration with all this chaos happening in the world. But today I write and hope my voice will be heard.  Stay safe everyone.
Empire Apr 2020
tw self harm



I can’t hold out much longer
Every night I get weaker
From this eternal fight

I just want to hold it...
My blade
But I know what I’ll do...
I can’t see it
Can’t touch it
Can’t clean it
Can’t play with it
Can’t feel it against my skin
Can’t press the tip in
No..... you know you can’t stop
This ***** is too steep
But... I’m... I’m so tired...
I just wanna fall
Empire Apr 2020
I don't want to have to try and explain to you
The dark lines on my wrist and thigh
That I pray you will never be able to understand
Spent a long time just staring at my scars today...

It's been over a month since I last cut... doesn't feel like much of an accomplishment, but maybe it is...
Empire Apr 2020
tw self harm



Her skin burns
In the places she once held the blade
She knows she doesn’t need it
But curiosity and recollection
They tempt her
To fall once again
To relapse again
To cut herself again...

She sees the paths ahead of her
She sees addiction
She sees recovery
To cut again would be easy
Already she has supplies
But the momentum of healing
She doesn’t want to lose it
So hard she’s labored for it
So I suppose
For now
She’ll labor on
Something dark is lingering tonight... it’s time for sedatives I suppose... :(
Jenish Apr 2020
crouching for shelter
from pattering rain, I sat -
before cutting him.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Millay Has Her Way with a Vassar Professor
by Michael R. Burch

After a night of hard drinking and spreading her legs,
Millay hits the dorm, where the Vassar don begs:
“Please act more chastely, more discretely, more seemly!”
(His name, let’s assume, was, er ... Percival Queemly.)

“Expel me! Expel me!”—She flashes her eyes.
“Oh! Please! No! I couldn’t! That wouldn’t be wise,
for a great banished Shelley would tarnish my name ...
Eek! My game will be lame if I can’t milque your fame!”

“Continue to live here—carouse as you please!”
the beleaguered don sighs as he sags to his knees.
Millay grinds her crotch half an inch from his nose:
“I can live in your hellhole, strange man, I suppose ...
but the price is your firstborn, whom I’ll sacrifice to Moloch.”
(Which explains what became of pale Percy’s son, Enoch.)

Originally published by Lucid Rhythms. This poem is based on an account of Edna St. Vincent Millay being confronted by a male Vassar authority about her rogue behavior. However, there is a some poetic license involved, for the sake of humor. It was actually Vassar President Henry Noble MacCracken who mentioned Shelley. Here is his account in a response to a question about Millay cutting classes: "She cut everything. I once called her in and told her, 'I want you to know that you couldn't break any rule that would make me vote for your expulsion. I don't want to have any dead Shelleys on my doorstep, and I don't care what you do.' She went to the window and looked out and she said, 'Well on those terms I think I can continue to live in this hellhole.'" The stuff about Enoch and Moloch is, of course, pure fabrication on my part.
Keywords/Tags: Millay, dead, Shelley, Vassar, dorm, hellhole, drinking, partying, ***, cutting classes
Empire Apr 2020
tw self harm



I want to take the blade to my wrist again
I’ve been... I’ve been doing so well...
But something in my heart
In my stomach, in my chest
Something in my mind isn’t right
I really need someone to take care of me
So... I guess this is it...
Taking the blade to my wrist again
Just so I can bandage it
Because I know
No one else will
No one Apr 2020
It's sometimes hard to grasp

that people can't fight their inner battles.

Because some of us weren't aware we were in the middle of a war zone

and wanted to take a stroll, only to get a bullet in our chests.

Some of us need immediate medical attention,

but afraid we're being selfish to ask for help because there are so many others

who have similar wounds, or have it even worse.



It's sometimes hard to realize

that we need someone to stitch us up

so that we can walk another mile, until one is ten.

Because life is about falling, getting up, and walking farther.

But, some us need a new leg, because ours was cut off.

Some of us like playing with fire, some of us terrified.

But no matter what, all of us feel the burn - the heat.



It's sometimes hard to speak up

because we've been shown too many times we aren't normal.

So many of us are crying over the kitchen sink, ice cubes in hand.

Because that's the only way to get the impulse to fade.

It's hard to ask a simple request, because then it feels so much more real.

We don't want people to notice our fake smiles, or forced laughs.

And we're afraid to climb life's mountain,

because the more you go up, the harder your fall will be.



It's sometimes hard to recognize

that it's okay to be afraid or feel like it is the end of the world

But it's also important to know, it will be okay.

We all need swim past the sharks and riptides,

but it's also okay to have someone pull you out the water for a breath.

Maybe your mound is still bleeding, but it will heal.

Some of us are scared to breathe because we've seen what poisonous gas does.

So it's okay to ask for a gas mask, just make sure you pass it on.



It's sometimes hard to fathom

a time where you'll smile for you, instead of someone else.

Or to take the leap between trees, but you have to because the forest is burning down.

Some of us can't get to the finish line without a drink of water.

But we still have to keep running on the track.

Even if you have to lie to yourself at first.

But, if we want to be happy, we have to make sure

the happiness we seek is worth a decade of wars for.
I hope anyone reading this knows you have to get up.
But if you can't, that's okay.
I'm rooting for every single one of you.
I am cheering for your every step.
It's okay need a helping hand, but once they give you a little shove.
Thank them and continue.
It's okay to need to take a breath.
Breathe, look at the sky, and know someone is looking out for you.
And if you think no one is there for you
you're right.
Because I am No one (:
So this if you needed a sign to move forward, here it is.
Empire Apr 2020
One of these days
I’ll wear my scars
I won’t hide them
Because they’re a part of me now
Maybe I need to spend less time
Waiting for them to disappear
And more time
Learning to make peace with them
Next page