Should I ‘respect’ a person
because they have the power
to harm me?
Or,
Should I respect a person
because they are able and willing
to help me
achieve my joy and happiness?

Attempting to harm
my enemies
did not bring me joy and happiness,
did not bring me peace of mind;
I made the enmity worse,
I got myself into trouble;
I was traumatised
by the whole experience.

Now I defend myself
against enemies,
but I don’t try to harm them;
I focus on achieving my own joy and happiness.

I have been a fool
all my life,
lacking the wisdom
to achieve joy and happiness
in my environment.
But Destiny
by confronting me
with dangers and difficulties,
hurts, harms and losses,
is beating me into shape,
impelling me towards wisdom.

If you look close enough you'll see the marks of previous self destruction
Listen long enough and you'll hear the emotions
That inspired the trails I ran razors down
                             Blood
The Crimson drops that reminded me no matter how dead I felt inside, somehow I was still alive,
A tangible effect,
causation: the constant disrespect of those so ignorant to call themselves human.
Purpose: to heal the wounds unseen with visible references of invisible pain.

Once she chased happiness
and now she chases broken pieces.
She fell in love with pain,
it drove her insane.
For who would want to hurt themselves?

Who would choose to
love to be heartbroken,
run back to the ones who would hurt,
reminisces painful memories to be hurt,
indulge in negativity, to drown in its depths
be comforted by demons than people.

But no one saw,
for there were no scars,
for it was mental self harm.

Pain it craved,
fear, rejection and sadness it ate.

She cried, because it was self harm
she screamed, and shouted
asking herself did she not love herself
to be hurt by her own self?

There was once a rich youth who was a chief
officer, he squander his dough on drugs for cough
the chief now is not fine
the virus in him is immune
which made his handkerchief always filled with cough

Emotion brew within
A concoction of colours
Swirling like a vortex
A blend of emotions
Ready to burst and
Bring damnation
Only to be
Drown out
By crimson tears
Flowing down
My wrist

A shallow breath crease these pages,
A  cry for help goes unnoticed.

The cool heat of this itch,
Embers of light return,
Even if it’s just for a moment.

Where the excessive taps fade and stirring quiet ensues; the tears sting these wounds.
These wounds I have found a warm, numbing comfort in.

It doesn’t take long
It doesn’t take much
Simply an idle moment
A single flicker of thought
And it’s on my mind
Hatred
Loathing
Directed within
Then in the pain
The desires start...
For escape
For pleasure
For punishment
For intoxication
For blood
For sin
Maybe I need it
Maybe I deserve it
Maybe I want it
Maybe I crave it...
So I distract myself
Until it’s late enough to sleep
I can retreat to the dark
Behind my eyelids
Where I can’t feel pain

I found a valley dark and red with blood.
Emotions bound inside released, a flood.

An intense craving for physical pain.
Is this the sign of someone who’s insane?

I’d drag a serrated edge on my skin.
Not resisting, I let the darkness in.

And afterwards I couldn’t get it out.
Reeling inside I’d scream and cry and shout.

It kept going, till it overtook me,
and it wasn’t going to let me be.

What scared me the most was wanting to stay,
and dwell in the darkness every day.

So then I felt like I had popped my top.
Truthfully, I didn’t want it to stop.

The pain had a way to make me alive,
but if I continued I’d not survive.

If I did more, and it was still going,
the scars on my legs would keep on growing.

Finally I was able to end it.
Others helping me get out of the pit.

It’s an ongoing and a constant fight.
Resisting the cravings every night.

So this poem I made for those of you,
who are like me, fighting this demon too.

You are not alone. It may feel that way.
If you’re suffering, don’t be scared to say.