Winter Raven Apr 21

It hurts...
Every little reminder
How other people can just forget
But not me
Not anymore
It's all clear now
Clear and sparkly like a knife
Cutting right through to my soul
Exposing my every weakness
Make it stop
Take it out
Now it's bleeding
My weaknesses scattered on the floor
I pick them up
Attempt to put them back
But it hurts
I tried
I still am
But I failed
People are picking them up now
Throwing them at me
They're like their own set of knives
I have to make it stop

Temporal Fugue Apr 17

Short, crass, to the point
and cutting, so very deep

I've done this way to many times, and each time, the regrets are far more painful, than any wound inflicted. :\
Wordsinalign Apr 14

Why did I fall in love with you?
Our souls couldn’t unite, but still lost in you was I!
You couldn’t be chased away from my dreams,
you couldn’t be sleeping in my arms at night;
still lost in you was I.
With flowers I wooed you every second,
With leaves I chanted your name by minute,
With machines I carved your name,
With knives I killed myself every night;
With envy I even murdered your knight,
With anger I endangered all in blood,
With guns I threatened your being.

My intense enigmatic love broke into pieces by the moonlight, The spear ran through your engraved name.
Words that flowed out my mouth: Sometimes killed my real self for it.

Melody Martin Apr 8

I would sever Every. Last. Inch.
of the 100,000 miles worth of veins
coursing through my body.
If I dared to ask the same,
you wouldn't even pick up the knife.

pluviophile Mar 21

I remember,
When I was eight.
I held a silver blade over my pale wrist.
But it told me to stop,
And so I slipped it away.
I remember,
When I was fourteen.
I brought out that same blade,
Along with two others.
Silver, black, blue.
Yet again,
They told me to forget.
Regretfully,
I hid them in the drawer of my wooden desk.
I remember,
When I was eighteen.
Ready to end everything,
I brought out all five of them.
Silver, black, blue, white, green.
For all my deadly sins,
I deserved them.
Tears welled but were never shed.
My guardians,
They told me to rise up,
To continue to make memories.

all credits go to my friend, c.g.
Marte Lindholm Feb 14

Still I have the urge
To take the knife up
And do stupid things
Like I used to before

But no, I don't do it
Instead I drown myself
In loud music and tears
With literally no end

Am I becoming mad?
I don't know anymore
But this seems like
A fine way to suffer

//Trying to do things right//
Rebel Heart Feb 14

I'm an artist they say...
I painted my illusions of dreams
I drew on a smile everyday,
I was happy, so it seemed

But my palette ran low
As my colors faded grey
Now my life holds on by a thread
And I'm just fighting just to stay

Because as the days go on,
I let these colors bleed through.
From my paper to my skin,
I'm nothing but red, black, and blue.

I turned myself into a canvas
Trying to describe this strife
But it wasn't beautiful at all
For my paintbrush was a knife

And my paintings are nothing but
empty promises of what we once knew
The only color left in my life
Are my memories of you

Well that escalated quickly...
Cierra Hope Feb 5

In high school,
It's all just fun and games
Of who has better aim
And who can get the knife
deeper in your back.

Cierra Hope Feb 5

The word feels foreign on my tongue
Actions make me run and hide
As if no one could ever love someone
As hideous and dirty as me
That's what you want me to believe
That no one will ever love me for the way I am.

So you sit there and whisper in my ear
It's okay, he can touch you like that, this isn't wrong
But it is
He should treat me better.

For a while,
I told myself that I would figure you out
I would understand why you are the way that you are
I would fix you
But it was never that simple
Sometimes, people hurt people just to hurt them
As if they find pleasure in it
You loved to watch me squirm under your knife.

I always thought you loved me
But now the fog has cleared
And I see that it was lust.

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