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Jaicob Apr 2021
Drown me in ink.
I don't want to see anything.
I want to be choked out
On the one thing that gives life meaning.

Slit my wrists with paper.
I don't want to live anymore.
I want to bleed crimson onto the page
And give meaning to the words I write.
C F Tinney Nov 2020
The day flows on
even in the most basic ways
when we have the best of our days
there is still the pain

It radiates and rises from the pores
when we are uninjured
but who among us is ever truly
unhurt?

At my best I rise and fall
in various states of anger
angst
bitterness

I cannot recall the last peaceful day
a day without pain
be it the pain of the mind
or the ache of the body
the first because of the latter

Yet it doesn’t seem to matter
what is done
or undone
it remains and I remain
two enemies trapped together
my Pain and I
like two bitter foes who’ve been at struggle
so long
they couldn’t understand a day alone
without the other
poem speaks for itself
Sarah Flynn Nov 2020
cutting was once
my temporary relief.

I wish I had realized
that these scars
wouldn't be temporary.
Kei Darling Oct 2020
I see you fall and I feel helpless
I see your pretty smile replaced by tears
This was your dream and I feel hopeless
I just hope you can live on past your fears

The ocean and the earth live in harmony
Each detail of your waters are beautiful
Strength like the smoothest symphony
Your love is plentiful

But your hope is not
The eagle stole it, and then the crows finished off the rest
To return it, is what ive sought
Each day is a test

I’ve never seen you so soulless
Swaying in the wind, helpless.
this is actually based off an anime ship- guess who in the comments..?
Dante Rocío Aug 2020
If you ever see me
run over.
kicked.
bleeding.
blurring.
on the ground.
incoherently.
something wrong with me.
or that I’m not conscious,

don’t look for my breath
or heartbeat,
don’t reach for a phone to call
an ambulance that will drive me
to the hospice
to which the world throws you in
when your window sill climbing,
barefoot walking
in the dirt rolling
like child with freeing thoughts drooling
or law-culture breaking
gets too much
of a crime for them.
don’t ask me if I see still fine
your two or four fingers
yet look for the tears in my eyes.

For if I don’t have them anymore
and won’t get myself then or ever again
to truly cry,
it is only then
that you’ll know
I stopped fighting,
I died,
I ultimately ***** myself
and I forgot
there is more Beyond.

and without that
my existence isn’t worth
looking for the pulse
anymore.

I will not be worth
of seeing stars
as a boy
without sanity
or glasses
anymore.

...

I swear on you
upon all
that
heed.
Thought of when once I felt
That the Village’s walls want always
To take over us
And make us forget
There is actually worth
or Life.
Thought of when imagined
That I would cease to wonder
Cry, bless or use my Legend
To become.
When I thought how others are unwelcome
Of my antics, Liberty and the New I carry
Every time you wake into
Walking this Village’s annihilation
And fearing
That one day you’ll come
To agree to it all.
This is what others don’t know as Death
Brian Yule Aug 2020
Gazing down
I see this dull blade drew blood
Dial blind as ache lulls
Defy ease as life oozes free
Don’t lie down
Don’t sleep
Keep fear sharp
As faint creeps the soothing deep
Passions eked
Awareness do not forsake me
Come on
Come on
Answer
I stare vague at the mess where my wrist used to be
Which emergency?
Ambulance please
Consciousness bleeds
I wake with cool linen covering me
Coleman M Lowe Jul 2020
She was in an awful state,
Her folks had hurled words of hate.
When he came for her.

And there in her hand she held,
A sharpened bit of cold blue steel,
Honed ever so sharp to the feel.

Palatable,
Twas her pain.
He felt it too,
It was that real.

At once,
He knew that this time,
She not would not cut herself,
Just to feel.
And this time there was a,
**** good chance,
That these wounds,
Might never have the chance to heal.

He peered into,
Her tear stricken eyes.
And a plan it did arise.

With a lump in his throat,
And a trembling voice.
And as the tears streamed from his eyes.

He said,
You're planning to leave me,
I'm afraid I do surmise.
I realize that I can't stop you,
If you truly wish to go.
But,
One thing my dear.
One tiny little thing
For me,
PLEASE!
Before you leave to go,
Is that too much to ask,
From someone who loves you so.

May I please,
Please,
Hold onto to your sharpened bit,
Of cold blue steel?

Before my one true love,
From me it steals?

Three minutes.
Just three minutes please.

Let me hold it.
Please.
Just three short minutes.
I am begging you.
Please!

I do implore.
Give to me,
What's in your hand.
I promise to give it back once more.

I have never lied to you.
And,
I am not about to start it now.

I will do exactly as I say I will.
But ,
Please,
Please listen to me.
And give it to me now.

Three minutes,
Three tiny little minutes,
Of just you and me,
Before you leave to go.
Three minutes,
And you are free to go.

Could you please,
Give that piece of steel to me?

She unloosened her grasp,
And,
Into his outstretched hand,
It fell.
Her tiny bit,
Of cold blue steel.

Quickly,
He closed his fingers,
And,
At last,
The steel he,
Himself, did grasp.

Flip your timer dear.
Three minutes,
Three scant minutes,
That is our deadline.
That should be all it takes.
Sweet love of mine.


Now you should know before you go.
That I do indeed love you.

Well just how much,
Well that my dear.
You may never know.

Safely in his arms,
On his chest,
Her head did rest.

You do know,
That I love you the best.
Upon her head he placed a kiss.
And gently kissed,
The teardrops from her eyes.

As their eyes locked,
He said,
To me doll,
You're quite the prize.
As he wiped,
The teardrops from his eyes.

He then cast his eyes,
Upon the dwindling sand.
In the tiny hour glass.
Time is short my dear,
We haven't long I fear.

And yes,
Eternity,
It does draw near.

NOW!

Listen to me,
Hear me well.

You won't go alone,
You'll have me near.
That's how much,
I love you dear.


We will go together dear.
I'll hold your hand,
This will be,
Our very last stand.

He redirected his eyes,
And glanced upon the clepsydra
That depleted hour glass.
The timer was empty,
The sands had all ran out.

He then looked right back at her,
And said,
It's empty.
All the sands have ran out.
And honey,
This is what I am all about.

He unloosened his fingers,
And with an upturned palm.
He revealed to her once more,
Her, cold, blue steel.

This one thing,
I pray you've learned.
And your trust I have earned.

I did not lie to you,
And I never will.
And he held to her,
Her sharpened sliver,
Of cold, blue steel.

Where we go,
From here my dear,
Well you decide.

But,

We are going together dear.
That's for ME,
To decide.

We are going together dear!
Arm in arm,
And,
Side by side.

He closed his eyes,
And they both softly wept.

He felt her fingers,
Retaking her steel.
And imagined,
Just how it might feel.

The bite of,
Her cold, blue steel.

Then,
Like the tinkling of a bell,
Came a tiny metallic sound.
That itty-bitty sound.
Twas the sound of the razor,
As it struck the ground.
                                      
                                            by: coleman
This was written about an event in my life where a dear friend, who like I am, is a lifelong cutter, I got her to reconsider suicide that night and we are both alive and well, thankfully.
C F Tinney Jul 2020
They don't care
nobody cares about your sorrow
they say I'm sorry to hear it, or
that's too bad
but as soon as the words stop sounding they celebrate
that it is not them

they care only so much

Some might care
the first time they hear of it
empathy is as real as stone
but doesn't last nearly as long
and turns to mist that blows away quickly

they care only so long

You know it
because you do the same
after hearing it a few times you wonder
why don't they just accept their lot?
the stone becomes mist
and blows away

you only care so much, for so long
when it is your sorrow
your pain
your injustice

It hurts.  It aches.  It isn't fair.  It shouldn't have happened
they don't care

You might as well tell a wall
or sing it to a passing sparrow
or tell your dog, who will surely care longer
than any of your fellow man

You know it
because you do the same
and the mist blows away and you move on
leaving sorrow and pain it's victim to have
Flynn Apr 2020
The moment I lost everything
I lost... everything

It all used to be so clear
Until my passion disappeared

I knew my direction every day
Until my ******* spine gave way

I coerced myself to counselling
Honestly ready to try anything

"It's not the end of the world" she said
As dark thoughts danced through my head

"What else makes you happy?"
"I guess I do love poetry"

I still feel empty.
I wouldn't wish back injuries on anyone at all.
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
Tiny sliver of wood
placed in accident
beneath fingernail
or under skin
stings greater
in the moment
than gunshot or knife.
For a splinter
always pokes
at our carelessness
and pierces straight
our most useless
*****: pride
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