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
My fingers are frail under the kiss of the needle
But I bleed because I'm accident prone
My skin still shivers in contact with the silver stick
Withdrawing and pouring outwardly

My fingers are wrapped in bandage tongues
Stained red because I'm accident prone
But I am just shy of thimbles so with needlework nimble
I'll make a garment for the Winter's most cowardly

My fingers are sore and my back aches from hunching
Poor posture because I'm accident prone
But it subtly kicks in when I'm still distracted
Daydreaming and-- there goes my finger again
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 Hell
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 heroin 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 fucking 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 prick 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 prick 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
elinor May 31
when you clawed at my skin
and tore apart my flesh like
an animal,
like your eyes had never manifested in the pores before
you tattooed my skin with a wound.
the truth is
my body is a canvas for the art of the wounds you create
and it's not the blood that scares me
it's the prick of the needle
to sew me together
again.
I've had to sew too many times
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