Her smile dissipated and her tears ceased flow.
She was refocused.
Her right arm bleeding all over, Chrimson moved her other hand
She fell
Her head colliding with the chilled floor
It didn't hurt.
Raised her arm to the sky, deathly solemn her face was
Her weaponry pressed the flesh
Her mangled arms somewhat symmetrical
Gazing at the glazing of her appendage, she felt not happy
Not glad
But she felt justice.
This was what she deserved. What her sins had bought her.
What she needed.

An edited passage from one of my recent narrative pieces.
I thought it good to put here among my other writings.
Things are getting better on my end.
Blake 20h

A rope is a rope, until it becomes a noose.
Metal is metal, until it's sharpened to a blade.
Medicine is medicine, until it's taken by the wrong person.
An object is an object, until you use it differently.

look at my wrists
and i'll tell you what i've been up to

01/16/18

Once upon a time
I thought that if I scratched away at my skin hard enough
I could peel the layers back
and reveal someone inside
one who wouldn't be judged
one who was some semblance
of normal
It didn't work
because there is no normal in me
there is only pain and confusion and fear
now all that's left of that
happier time
is the scars that litter my body
like a trashcan tipped over in the wind

Do not speed
Just sit in your seat,
Put on your seatbelts
And avoid the sun’s heat,

Don’t touch your cellphone
Just turn on the radio,
Don’t start a fight
And follow the traffic rules,

Use zebra crossing
When crossing the street,
And never tailgate
Or you’ll slip over your feet,

Follow these rules
To escape death’s grip,
Ignore these rules
And your blood will drip.

Please drive safely. Nearly 1.3 million people die in road crashes each year, on average 3,287 deaths a day. An additional 20-50 million are injured or disabled. More than half of all road traffic deaths occur among young adults ages 15-44.
Beeb 6d

Kate said that she liked bricks.
I was taught that bricks are bad.
And they are bad.
Kate likes to tell me about bricks.
I don't like to listen,
But I must listen or else Kate will lay bricks down.
Kate scares me.
I don't want to talk to her,
But I must.
I don't want to become like Kate,
And I don't want others to become like Kate.
Bricks are bad.
Stay away from Bricks and Brick Layers.

Craig 7d

the incessant running of a faucet,
a clock ticking rhythmically
with the sudden clink of metal on tile.

drip, drip, drip

a flow that's too late to stop
splashes filling the tub
gallons and gallons rushing to supply it.

drip, drip, drip,

crimson on clear creating spools of red colour,
this is it. this is all i'll ever be known for.
i've never seen the end so near.

drip, drip, swallow

it's all gonna be okay
i'll close my eyes and lean back
everything is a headrest if you make it one

drip, swallow relax,

i see dark, fuzzy spots yet feel a burning pain,
i feel so colourful yet soon i'll be gray
so here i'll lay until it's over and i'm found
cut scene, fade to black,

roll credits.

This is.. a rather old piece. I'd written it at a very bad time as a coping mechanism and although it did not come out very well I hold plenty of value to it.

You sit in a dollhouse all day,
Pouring tea out for your dolls and teddies. Mother comes home,
fake smiles on her face,
Father comes home,
reads his newspaper for the day.
"Hello, my love,
wipe your tears.
fix your face.
fix your heart.
put that makeup back on,
wear your lace.
Because Mr. Smith doesn't like when you cry.
He doesn't like when you pout,
he hates when you want to die".
"But mama,
I look so pretty when I cry.
Leave me be.
I want to die.
I want to be free.
I want to fly.
I want a painful goodbye
So I can have all the good
in the other life".

Mother doesn't know.
Father doesn't care.
Sister is far away.
Mr. Smith is an asshole with no hair.
LoVe iS iN tHe AiR.
LoVe iS iN tHe AiR.

"Go back to bed, honey.
You need your pretty sleep.
Dry your face,
paint your nails,
Fix your hair.
The world doesn't like your sad,
ugly face".
The walls are the best psychiatrists ever. They listen, they listen,
oh how they whisper.
You can stare at them and they'll never run away.
They'll never give you pills.
They never tell you to fix your face.
Your teddies are your friends.
Your dolls are your puppets.
"Gimme a canvas,
let me paint my worries!"
You take a knife,
you put it to your skin.
Out pops all the fuzz and stuffing.
No one cares. No one cares. No one cares
about anything but your face and hair.
You stare at yourself for what seemed like 1,000,093 minutes of dread.
"Oh, Mr. Smith, do you know about the demons inside my head?
You don't?
You don't?
Aww, how sad!
Then you must not know
about all the blood that I shed"
All they say is pain is beauty.
You cry out to your pillow,
"Help me! Someone just help me!"
But the truth is, babygirl,
the wrong people in this world only care
about their own teddies
And their own dollies
And their own rainbows
And their own swirlies.

-k.ira

How can you live
when your dead inside
How do you feel
when your ready to die
She sings songs like hymns
that say goodbye
They're written in
razor blade lullaby

She hurts herself cause she hates herself
All she wants to do is escape the hell
Covers the mark from over her arms
Won't always be room to hide these scars
She's never met a stranger, never met a friend
People think they know her but they don't understand
She's at the point where all she does is think
Cries as she washes out blood in the sink
Ashamed, as the blade, it crosses her veins
Looks for a way but she can't find an escape
Her eyes, are wide, she's covered in her lies
Her family believes everything is alright
Tries to quit, but she can't resist, the itch
She knows this is sick but can't replace it
She wants to get back to where she was
But she can't face what she's running from

Getting braver with every cut she makes now
Holding the knife in her hands as she breaks down
It hurts so much but she doesn't make a sound
This time she's completely out of control
Wants to let go but can't break the hold
Scared this time she might cut too deep
She knows that's a promise she'll never keep
Cause the rush is too extreme when she bleed
It's a release that takes the pain away you see
The blade is sharp and cold and she can't let go
The pain hurts but it's quick it's worth the risk
It started out harmless, just a flick of the wrist
Can't find the words, that could have predicted this
All the people she'd hurt if she attempted this
She thinks about this time just a little deeper
Like her world's been ripped underneath her
She thinks about all the things she would miss
But if she's not happy then who gives two
She's tired of laying depressed in the bed
They say she don't care when she's stressed in her head
She sits and thinks, what does life mean?
If suicide's weak, where's that leave me?

I use to think she was seeking attention
But now my opinion is totally different
I wish I'd listened (but I didn't)
You never envision, you might lose a friend
'Cause you never know when you might see 'em again
But then again, we all choose our end
What you should have did instead you'll never forget
Every word you said, you're sure to regret

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