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shima Oct 9
giant towering pines
heaps of silver needles
mountains of scrapped cloth
capped with bleach and one's breath
clattering of metal trinkets falling to the tiles below
tiles splooshing as they hit the dark ocean water
night fading to day and bringing warmth
i dont want to write a narrative for school so here's something i did to procrastinate
s Sep 17
.
I’ll needle a thread around your heart,
plunge it through mine,
and tie the knot.
Copyright CoffeetoTheorems
Pyrrha Sep 13
Carefully the needle penetrates into my skin
With every new puncture the thread follows along

In and out again and again
Till it reaches the end and finally
A harsh pull, a few tugs

Then the string is snipped free at last
Its been completely sewn shut

Only after you closed me up
Did you ask me how my day was
How I was feeling

But what could I say
With my mouth sewn shut?
Hg Aug 8
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
©Hg
Got bubbles in my heart;
Air filled needle in my vein.
Don’t remember why I really started!
Oh yeah, right, to stop the pain.

It got me going straight down-
To the underneath
Soon I will be below the ground;
Safe and sound asleep.
Amanda Jun 27
Will never forget the first time
Was injected with an illegal drug
It was my suggestion
Laughed it off with a shrug

Addiction already running wild
Causing life torture and ****
We reached the point where
We'd do anything to stay well.

I tentatively offered up
Opportunity, you jumped at the chance
Both saw the answer we craved
Hidden within the other's glance

Was scared, heart beating fast
Doubt building, I stared at the spoon
As the ****** melts, mind wonders
How did life change so much since yesterday afternoon?

Eyes that woke goblins within
Something darker in me
And night welcomed us weightless
Into a new barren wasteland, unevenly

Lucifers playing tricks in the dying light
Blinded in that foolish hour
I saw the syringe held softly in your palm
Goosebumps rose, was awed by its power

Of course fear on my face was clear
You made a half-hearted attempt for me
To ease concern, your cruel comfort
Did little to set uncertainty free

Something smoking deep inside
Whispered "this is leading nowhere good"
You touch flesh, searching for a vein
Stomach sinking, I am doing what I swore I never would

I swallow hard, you tie off my arm
Shoelace wrapped with indifference, no guilt in your eye
You glimpse the tears welling up fast
Say sharply "I'm not going to do it if you're going to cry."

But it is already in the needle
It is a little late to turn back now
I take a deep breath, suppress the teardrops
Shake shame off the sins I chose to allow

Turn my head to avoid the sick sight
Try to focus on the smell of coffee in the air
Let out a quiet whimper when the stinging pain hits
Wishing to teleport anywhere besides there

It was over after a few short moments
I felt better so I told myself it was okay
I promised it would be the last and only time
I have not parted with the needle since that day
This is a very personal one for me, I apologize for anyone offended by the subject matter, but I think its inpprtant to share because once you cross that line is is ******* hard to go back to smoking or however ypu did/do your drugs..
ashley marie Jun 24
sometimes i like to thread a pin through my skin. it usually doesn't hurt because i ignore the pain. i sew my skin with the pin and when i pull it away the emotions lingering underneath leak out. like unstitching a stitch which you thought could be fixed. i don't do it to hurt myself i just do it to breathe. sometimes friends will ask me about it i don't know what to say because its hard to explain the patterns of the stitching and the rashes of the itching. its just a blister im not lying. my body is bubbling on the verge of bursting from exhaustion of repeated motions and if that isn't proof that im ok idontknowwhatis.
i used to vent my emotions without saying a word.
Blake Jun 21
Mum,
I’m a needle,
And like a needle in a haystack,
I get lost and immobile.

Sometimes frightened and suffocated...
Mostly numb and oddly protected.

Mum,
The worst part of me being buried,
Suffocated... immobilised..rendered useless...and just a utter black hole.

Is that everytime you bury your hands and search for me,
I ***** and draw blood...
But you never stop.

You squeeze and uncover my hay,
All the while I cause you harm,
Cuts and scarring,
I make you wince and wail,
Swear and...and sometimes you cry...
But you never stop until I’m safely in your hold and cuddled out of trance.

You always say the same words,

“Don’t be sorry, all those of beauty are only one turn away from ugliness”

And I will always reply back,

“You need your eyes tested”

And even though my heart blossoms,
I pray for your surrender...you deserve so much more than my daughter scars.
stopdoopy Jun 6
Red
Sometimes I wish I could just cry,
to get all my emotions out,
drain the thoughts,
but I never can.
Now i'm stuck with them,
a needle just poking through the surface of fabric
just enough to ***** yourself on,
only you cant stop,
and soon your hand is covered in red,
just like your face when you
FINALLY
break down and the tears trickle
.
a cumulus
feather round
my heart
made a
start newly  
found as
dawn rose
over this
realm like
yarn this
homespun from
dross but
mattered in
thin ice
and without
any artificial  
drought superimposed
a seance of words
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