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Kim Trojel Mar 2015
The night is icky cold and skies are black
With hopeless matters filling up my skull.
The thoughts are mine alone. I can’t turn back.
The ride is fast and slow and wild and dull.

My heart stops beating by the thought of you.
I miss the way you made me feel so numb.
Alive, for sure, as well as slightly blue
But well and wild and free and young and dumb.

Yet, no more than a call away from me
I still want you to stay right where you should.
Without you, I can fly, can swim a sea.
I probably won’t, but I surely could.

So then I see a sudden ray of light.
And now I know that all will be alright.
We had to write a sonnet for school so I thought I'd share it with you guys as well!
rosemary Mar 2015
“it will become a habit you get into
or i’ll just cut it off
it will become a habit”

the habit of the knuckle dragged in gorse
the salt of the crisp packet burned, a curse
upon my fingers, numbed by cold
bled daily, blistered on the pan
and branded with the bone structure
of man, of man, of man

the habit of the knuckle crushed on concrete
of the flick knife opened leisurely and drawn across the thigh
but gently, dragging in the skin
halted by fear of jelly flesh
and metal sticking in the bone

the sickness that made ritual of coughing
poisoned christmas dinner, and the presents
and new year
the muscles taut upon the ribs from coughing
pulled to string like blu-tack, snapped
lopsiding me for days, and days

the new bad habit
of the scratch of metal keys
the catch in purple folds of flesh
with one foot on the skirting board
the shirt held in the mouth
the boxers down around the knees
the metal digging in again, again, again
the rise of rosy bump, and ****** blush

camden canal, past midnight, new year’s day:
“i deserve to die
i deserve to die”
Alistair Mar 2015
That girl over there isn't clean
but not in the way that you'd expect

yes, she showers on the daily
yes, she brushes her teeth in the morning
yes, she wears a clean set of clothes every day--

but if you take the time
to look her in the eyes
and possibly even care enough
to try to see through her lies of
"I'm alright, I'm just tired"
and "Sorry, it's just one of those days"
you'd see that the way she pulls down her sleeves
and makes the excuse that she's "just cold"
is really a defense mechanism.

You see, that girl really isn't clean
and she hasn't been since just a few days ago

and all the dirt
all the filth
that covers her body
covers her thoughts
lies in the places that you can't see--
the places she doesn't let you see.
Trigger warning: self-harm; depression (nothing overly explicit)
Brittany Ryan Mar 2015
Oh who am I kidding, life doesn't work that way
There are no happy endings or prince charmings
More like heartbreak and self-harming
You cut your wrists just to see them bleed
It's such a rush, the blade becomes your noble steed
you watch the blood flow down the drain
Along with your hopes and dreams of love and fame
You feel the life draining out of you
But no, oh no, you don't want it to end
even though your dog is your only friend,
even though you've been depressed for more days than you can count
Deep down you still had hope that someway, somehow you'd amount
To something
The black spots are clouding your vision
You panic, you cry,
And you realize that you don't want to die
You pray to God, begging to survive
Promising to do anything, in exchange for a second chance at life
But life, you see, is not a game
When it's your time to go, you go:
No excuses and hopefully no pain
All you see now is blackness
It's taking you under, out of consciousness
Your life doesn't flash before your eyes
You don't see the "light"
You're lost, alone
And now...
You're gone
Levi Franco Mar 2015
My blood churns and swirls
As it goes down the drain.
It should hurt, it should sting
But I feel no pain.

Pleasure, warm and red leaves the cuts.
Out the slashes, comes the scars.
Self harm is not a trend.
Please, grow the **** up.
Izzy Oct 2014
You  sent me running into the night
taking my painted picture with a twist,
blood bleeding down my wrist.
My painted picture had a twist
My paint brush; a razor
My canvas: my wrist
Casey Williams Mar 2015
giving up is like giving in
my ears bleed from
the silent screams that fall from my lips
my body wracked with shakes
i'm losing my mind
sounds to loud
lights to bright
where is my silence
where is my darkness
my demon lurks this a candy coated world
i don't want to hear anymore
stop
stop
stop
please
go
far
running
nothing
*nothing
i've been falling
touka Feb 2015
Frailer than last time, in sullen plight, and trembling cold;
goal waned an ailing crescent.
Childlike in premise, but seized in discord; a gracious whole.
haven't wrote in a while. short but hopefully sweet.
Sam Knaus Feb 2015
There are blotches of red marks on my skin, my face,
bags under my eyes, 
I get around 5 hours of sleep most nights 
but every morning I still feel like I haven't slept in a century. 
This is a different kind of pain.
This isn't a migraine, or a stomachache. 
This is more than a stomachache. 
This is waking up every morning to arms full of scars that are so ******* triggering,
A stomach screaming "feed me" but skipping breakfast and lunch 
because I swear to ******* god, I've gained weight. 
This is a different kind of pain. 
This is my first poem in months which is why 
it doesn't fit together perfectly 
but since I penned all of my thoughts about 
my eating disorder, my self harm, my mental illnesses and my boyfriend,
I didn't have anything to say, 
I'd given my voice away by that point 
and that caused a different kind of pain.
This is the first poem I've written in god knows how long. I figured I'd upload it. Sorry about how depressing it is.
Samantha Dietz Feb 2015
The pain in her eyes won't subside
She fell in love with the devil
and chose to believe all his lies

She takes a sharp blade to her thighs
Black skinny jeans act as a mask
for slits on her wrists will not hide

She feels empty as her soul cries
Though her dark makeup will not run
because her pink cheeks remain dry

She can't stop asking herself why
He held a photo of a heart
but lacked a beating one inside

Now she wishes him a long life
One day he'll see what he gave up
and she'll walk past with her head high
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