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Marco Benitez Mar 2018
When my feelings are twisted and my mind distorted,
Hand me a knife
Hand me a knife to slice away my sorrow
To distract my depression with blood
To remember the number of times I felt miserable
One scar at a time
Hand me a knife to tear open my skin
So some of the sewage of my body can leave through the opening that I make
Don’t worry
It does not hurt when I make the cut
It only burns a little afterwards
I promise the knife will not get close to my throat
or at least I don’t think so
You don’t have to see the cuts
They can hide under my sleeves
Just hand me a knife!
You will never suspect I used it
It will not be the first time
It will not be the last time
That I paint a silver knife with my own blood
I promise it will be fast
I will cut,
Wash the knife,
And greet you the next morning
As if nothing ever happened
Galib Mar 2018
You came to my life, brought me to life,
You pulled out the knife, poked into my heart,
You are a beautiful sunny day following  dreadful night,
Will travel with time, to avoid nightmare of mine.
Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2018
I am disgusted with myself
Under a disappointed stare
The agony clear and palpable
As it courses through open air

I cannot change the deeds I've done
Unspeak the weighty lies I told
I work towards a better future
To prove trust is something I can uphold

The idea of you wondering
If I am not who I am
Keeps me enveloped in fear
Words barricaded in a tricky dam

Together we can tear down obstacles
Defeat shadows and doubt
One by one I will fix the problems
We have been fighting about

My ghouls are running wild, exposed
By the knife plunged into your heart
I long to have you in close proximity
Yet keep tearing your love apart
You said that what I did was disgusting, I know you don't mean me specifically, but it still hurt at the time.
Umi Mar 2018
Urges through the night, a blade dancing with its mistress, discarding what has summoned up in her way alike a ****** crazed devotion,
Scarlet tears make their way down her cheek, washing the sand off as the pillars around begin to collapse alike cards one by one at the time,
Phantoms rage as a pure flower appears to commence blooming,
The warped moon embraces the shadows of such fools as it rises,
Actions with not much meaning seek their rampage as the battle field becomes frail and soulless through this sleepless night of lunacy,
When the flood of realisation arrives she will be swept away unlike the wise who make a more solid, stadfast decision. How trecious,
Does she want to take a dance with this cruel world she rampages on, are her ideals fitting for this battle she is about to win for now,
Drenched in blood and impurities of her work, her mind remains pure, innocent, not even sweating one thought to the consequences,
Mercy nor compassion are unlikely to be granted in this darkening realm, not to her dancing knife or her lunatic ****** devotion,
Time is moving, as she sacrafices her soul for her actions,
Taking another dance in this distorted dark

~ Umi
Tiana Marie Mar 2018
The boy was too brooding.
I think he did it to impress me
and to make me think he was mysterious
but all it did was leave me empty.

The boy was too handsome.
He was the type of guy who could roll
right out of bed and look perfectly perfect
and it infuriated me.

The boy was too athletic.
His muscles never failed to show
themselves from underneath his tops
and it made me self-conscious.

The boy was too quiet.
He wanted to prove that he'd listen to
what I had to say so he'd stare right at me silently
with eyes that pierced my soul like a knife.

At first glance, he was flawless.
He had the qualities I always thought I wanted:
Mysterious, Perfect, Muscles, Listening Skills.
Really, I just wanted someone like the actors on TV.
But that's just what they are: actors.
Michael Mar 2018
The moon glints off a starry lake in the inky blackness of night.
I sneak a guilty look as I slip out of my room into quite dark.
The shrill call of crickets accompany the creaking floor as I slip my way down the dark hall.
My attention is caught by the silhouette of a crow sitting in the open window.
I shiver from a chill breeze as I slip my way past.
My feathery shadow hops from the windowsill and haunts my quiet footsteps.
It watches with greedy eyes as I slip a loaf of bread from a dark shelf.
It’s eyes glow as the glinting cutting knife slices smoothly through unressisting dough.
The bread, my starving need; the crow, a sick urge.

Cautiously, I give the crow a piece of bread, though my subconscious cries realizes the consequences.
As long as the crow can grow fat from my weakness, it will never let me go.
I see in the reflection of glossy black eyes, the glint of the cutting knife as it rises and falls again.
I feed myself.
The crow caws in growing anticipation of the feast to come; or perhaps it's my own projection onto the unsated bird.

The crow comes back each night.
It knows where to come to feast.
You could say that we've become quite close to each other.
With every flash of a cutting knife, the crow shudders with excitement.
Rushing blood, Classical conditioning.
I slice the bread, and feed myself again.
This poem is based off one by Yuri for DDLC. It deals with subjects that I relate to on a personal level. My goal was to create a poem that seemed Innocent if a bit dark, while darker symbolism is there for anyone who looks closer. I hope you enjoy it.
Tiana Marie Mar 2018
The end of the world was today.
It started with a simple delay—
A stop of motion
A miss of beat
A soft "hello"
swept off my feet.

The end of the world was today.
It shifted to a vulnerable display—
A life that's shattered
A ground that's cracked
A heart in pieces
the odds were stacked.

The end of the world was today.
It sparked from a word to say—
Red flashes of light
Sweet kisses and strife
Smiles and screams
At the end of life.
you knife me
me knife you

knife me you
knife you me
dont
try
to
turn
this around

it is merely i
you knife me
her pantyhose
call them stalkings
call my nightmares
dreams
you
really
knife me

stand me here
beat me hear
lash
me
last

oh
how
you knife me

your tongue
like
an
sweater

oh
how
you
must know
you knife me
?











...
..
.
stealing *****
from
my
...
..
.
private box
...
..
.
Alec Feb 2018
It was an accident
“An accident?”
An accident.

It was an accident
My finger slipped
I tumbled down
Onto the ground.

“Onto the ground?”
Onto the ground.

It was an accident
“An accident?”
An accident

It was an accident
My finger slipped
So the knife tumbled down.
“Onto the ground?”
Onto the ground.

It was an accident
“An accident?”
An accident.

It was an accident
My finger slipped
I threw myself down on the ground.
Wait no-
It was an accident
My finger slipped
I fell down to the ground.

It was an accident
“An accident?”
An accident

It was an accident
My finger slipped
As i bled out on the ground
Staring at my phone not moving around.
Wait no-
It was an accident
My finger slipped
My phone was far away.

It was an accident
“An accident?”
An accident.

It was an accident
My finger slipped
I forgot to lock the door
“You forgot to lock the door?”
I forgot to lock the door.
But i also forgot to push you away more.

It was an accident
“An accident?”
An accident.

It was an accident
My slinger flipped
....
It was an accident
My flipped slinger
.....
It wasn’t an accident
“I know.”
I’m sorry it wasn’t an accident.
“I knew your finger didn’t slip.”
I’m sorry i lied about it being an accident
“It’s okay
You just didn’t know what to say.”

My finger slipped
But it wasn’t an accident.
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