Haven't felt this weak or terrified. The tears are uncontrollable at times. How Waterfalls of my insecurities and overthinking thoughts are deadlier than a knife itself.

Lyn-Purcell Sep 6

K
NI
  VES
          are sharp
             in birth but
               blunt against
                   words. Though
                 I have become
                  used to pulling
                   knives from my
                   back, the words
                  that are said are
                    dropping pebble
                       in a still pond, rip-
                      pling through my
                      soul till the end of
                       days. Wounds heal,
                       right? The pain still
                        feels too fresh. And
                        do scars fade? How
                                          many do I have? Oh                  
                          well. I guess, no, I am
                           grateful, to be honest.
                             For every knife, I've cut
                             the cords of things unn-
                                ecessary. But the demons
                                     plague. My face is but stone.
                   My tears are void.
                   My heart is black.
                 The bare slashes
                  on me, I can deal
                  with. I can cope.
                 I can cope well.
                  I can cope. I can
                   cope. I can cope.
                     I-I-I just wish for
                  one thing. I just
                 wish that I was
                  easy to fix. I wi-
                  sh it was easy to
               breathe. Am I
              dying? Here?
            Alone? Yes...I
               am, aren't I? Fr-
                om my first bre-
               ath, I slowly be-
       gan to die.

Feelings for the day...
TheseRoots Aug 22

I will forever be stuck with a jar full of couch pennies.
Sitting on a bench, on my own, in my twenties
Begging with a cup for some spare change
Free housing can be arranged
I thank Trump for my life
as I stare sadly at the knife
Thank you Trump for my life
I'll make sure and use this knife

another one (:
Danny Aug 5

You're so cool, so hot
you could be a model,
But you're far from a model girl
You spend your time hiding from our enemies, defy them
You don't compare to other girls
You don't let them change your mind but
Across the room you cry at their prys
Why do you listen to the lies?
They pry your eyes wide open and force you to see what's not there
What's not theirs to say
Why do people treat you this way?
They can't be jealous of the pain can't hide
When your looks don't reflect how you feel inside
So you open your soft wrists to the night.
They cry red tears that you're trying to wipe
But they keep on pouring, draining from your face
Clean sheet white in it's place
The fresh pink glow defaced
Because they can't embrace the you that's real, the you that means the world to him
He has his own pain but it was never his lover
In the constant rain, you were his cover
That was before you lost your colour
What can he do now? He'll never recover
When lying in the bath he discovers
He finds the thing that he's dreading the most, he's shearing tears like never before.
You'd told him your dream of their white wedding but he never expected that you meant white like this.
He holds your hand, cold to touch Screaming about how you've hurt him so much
Whispering that it was only ever you
He'd never love another.
He carried you from the bath to the bed and comforted you and kissed your head
"Goodnight my love" he closed his eyes and wished you could open yours instead
Take that pain upon his head
But you're gone and will never be replaced
So for one final time he held your waist and sang to you, that song he sang that very first date,
The one about dreams and fate
He remembered how he fell in love that night as he held you so close and tight and danced under the moonlight
Delight had consumed him
But now the hate had consumed you
A single tear rolls, alone like him
He looked at the moon like that first time
And took his place by your side like cruel art.
He even used the same blade as you, and drove it through his heart.

Alec Jul 12

I crave it's feel
The devil and I might even make a deal
To worship it, I kneel.
The smooth and cold steel
Enhances the danger it brings
As if a siren luring men to their death it sings.
Sharp and beautiful like a rose
Red colors blossoming and bloody
Flowing down to the sink that it's flooding
The steel is red and dripping
My mind is slipping
I worship the steel that hurts me
But keep my scars hidden to the world, unseen
But after every slice and dice why am I still unhappy?
Perhaps because the steel that I love will never love me

It's getting better
But every time the sun sets
On another age
Another opportunity
My heart sinks
A few inches more
Deeper into my chest

Although there's nothing more to be done
I wish that such things would pass me by
And leave my heart alone at last

Although it's getting better
I wonder what will remain of me
And who I will be
If I survive to see it pass

Certain interactions are not easy to me because of how I utilize language, tone, diction, information, etc.
Marsha A Jul 6

Knife to my neck,
He licked the tears off me.

Madhu Jakkula Jun 29

You approached me with a smile by holding a knife behind your back.
You made sure your words felt like home, only to burn it down slowly and calmly.
You made me believe you are different from others, only to realise later that you are con master in disguise.

They say
it takes skill
to wield a knife

you have to hold it right
at the right angle
in the right way
at the right time

But you,
I doubted that you had practice
You had,
the clumsiest hands I would ever know.

But when the time came,
-like and expert-
you wedged that knife
into my very soul

Jobira Jun 20

A tiny lie, pierced
My ears, and my arteries
With a sharp edged knife
And cut the wires connected
Between my head and my heart

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