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Charlie Rose Apr 19
I feel my old burns heal over again
The restlessness of withdrawals still here
Just one more cut to quiet thoughts within
Just one more burn to calm the constant fear
Just one more viewing to feel less alone
Though I have endless private tabs lined up
Just one more drink while I scroll through my phone
A new shopping spree to feel like enough
But my demons will never go away
I cut, drink, and ******* to drown it out
Who cares if I lose touch, I love the pain
I've already far outlived my planned day
My plans keep shattering, I've no set route
But I can't have you see me like that again
Mostly a venting piece bc I'm trying not to relapse into self harm and sometimes addiction kicks your *** really suddenly 60 days in.
Betty Apr 16
I have a face in the mirror
I know I am there
because I checked
so why do I cut myself
to feel less invisible
pandemoniac Apr 13
and here i lie
weak and ******
all because i wanted love

love that you already give me

love that's not enough

look at me.

please, love me till it hurts

love me
kiss the cuts on my skin
cry me a river because you're scared for me

ask me to eat because you're so worried
cry me a river because you're scared for me

but you do that
and you do that
and rivers terminate somewhere

i need your love
i need more love
do as i would do
never let me go

your love doesn't fill my ever crumbling heart

it's not enough
you're not enough
and i love you

and this
can just be a fantasy?

i know i need to help myself
i know i can save me
but wouldn't it be nice
to pretend that you could fix it?
that someone could fix it?
that someone would fix it?

because i crossed oceans for you
lifted mountains for you
died for you
lived for you
say thank you.
say thank you.

and ******* fix it.

love me till it consumes you
and then love me some more.
i should get therapy instead of being unhinged on hellopoetry.com
AbdullaJabr Apr 9
Ergo this futile persistence
Clinging to worldly existence
Is like holding your breath,
Harming only your health.
In childish resistance
To the closing of distance.
Between death and yourself –
Stewie Apr 7
I punish myself because I deserve it.
To feel pain is to feel alive.
Attracting the heartbreak.
A magnet for hurt.
What do you love?
A cut so small
Disguised as accidents.
Bruised thighs and getting high.
Tuesday night.
So high I can fly.
pandemoniac Mar 16
stainless steel and skin
do make the worst of friends
the friction
the senses
survive and protect

will love always leave
is light simply a lie
stainless
steel blades
play god and death defy

electric is my mind
my heart is numb and small
senses
just lave
Over walls cold and tall

am i just worth not
the love ; you're unaware.
doesn't
hurt much
i'll go deeper so you care

my mind only filled
with endorphins happy red
pockets
of proof
of life; the raccoon fed

stainless steel and skin
do make the best of friends
buzzing,
living.
the cuts and seams i penned
the journey of self harm - from the time you use it when you're sad, to the time it's your only source of happiness
MB Feb 13
I’ve missed you sadness
I’ve been pushing you off
Keeping busy
But your tang
Your forbidden kisses
On my wrist-

The pain
Gets me so high
I miss feeling something
scar(s) worth the pain
to not feel pain
Kitten Yvad Jan 11
i feel hidden inside
patient with my my mind
as it learns the  
geography of hurt people
hurting people.

my heart gels
a film forming humectant
lilac and teal
insulated

just.. sufficiently from

hurt people hurt people

an endless dreamscape of
cacti on a parched plane
their arms outstretched



Spikes and Glochids.
Cacti wrap around cacti
sticky needles remain
lodged deep within
each the other's
succulent skin

their foreign bodies
make their  way
into eachothers blood.

Septecemia
in a drought waiting
for bloodpoisoning
feverish hungering for
a terrible flood

and their signs of
new drought warning
may sound promise of
love rain desired pouring

an endless dreamscape of
cacti on a parched plane
their reaching
arms outstretched

we wait for rain



i draft a map.
graphite on travelers' paper messily etched
the desert is beautiful.
so biodiverse and
queerly colorful one day.

water starved, unforgiving
cracked the next

have you ever seen
   the indigo wildflowers
  bloom?


no?

   a field of euphoria.

a winding path
I could  of run
from hostile conditions

to hostile conditions

but within hostility i might flower, a winding path of
near terrifying bliss.




and i map out the desert
because harsh as the terrain
   desert feverbloom myself

im designed to survive this
.
even when I am sad, lately, my energy feels really pure and real. my hearts been filtering away its own tolerance for confused and hurtful circumstances. my love is only a renewable resource when i expend it in warm and intentional spaces.
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