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Hannah Payne Dec 2016
I remember the weight of his body
Towering over me,
Ensnaring the torn mesh of my skin,
Concealing the crevices he's embedded me in.

The mass of his force,
That spark traveling through his velocity,
Littering my ability,
To resist and penetrate the vein of impalpable pleasure.

He keeps it contained,
At the bottom of the river,
Beneath the hidden plain,
Of his repressed, departed soul.

Acetic fizzed, frothing exhale,
Pirouetting through my nose.
Its toxicity starts to unfold,
And he wants me to recognize  
The power of his redundant trickery
Engraved in his smirking bloodshot eye.
Samantha Kay Nov 2015
You told me I was too good to cut myself,
So I put down the blade, because I wanted to be perfect in your eyes.
But now my chosen method of torture
Is picking up the phone
And scrolling through your ******* Instagram feed
Because seeing how happy you are without me is a scarless form of self destruction.
Because at the end of it all,
I spilled my soul and blood and tears in your name
And mine isn't even worth the waste of your breath.
cecelia Nov 2014
it's 10:42,
and all i want is you.
this room keeps spinning and spinning,
and i don't know what to do.
there's eighteen different voices
demanding i make these choices
because, girl. it's the bottom of the inning.
stop. there are too many noises.
it's okay. it's all in my head.
still my veins are dripping blood red.
oh, how i wish i could go back to the beginning,
but i sit here hoping that i'll just drop dead.
so here's to a stroke of luck,
to life not being able to ****,
to having you back because then i'll be winning
instead of crying my eyes out like a pathetic ****.
NitaAnn Sep 2014
Is way of expressing the pain that
I seem not to be able to talk about.
It is how I cope with feeling numb.
It is how I cope when I have so many emotions
I can't even begin to name them.

I self injure to hide the pain I feel.
I self injure and nobody knows but me.
I am me I can not change that
Right now self injury is a coping skill.

I am trying to find new coping skills to learn how to deal with things.
I can sometimes make those other skills work for me,
but on a day like today it seems to be the one reliable thing
that I know will help me get through the rest of the day.
Abigail Jul 2014
I had the wind ripped out of me,
like i was bleeding under cotton wraps
and a galaxy was exploding from my veins.

there’s glass everywhere
and you’re still deflating my lungs,
begging me to rest

we were childhood friends
and i only knew of you
but you stuck thorns in the carriage of my rib cage.

i got a paper cut and cried,
you poured salt on my withering roses,
and they died in the haze of that hot summer.

i’m going to rot just like you,
like the trees
like the birds

and i’m sorry
I let myself live before you
but i wanted to hold on to the taste of winter.
I don't have much to say about this other than I wrote it a while ago and I'm essentially only uploading it to make my new account not-so-empty. It needs some cleaning up, but I would rather just write a new poem rather than fix an old one.
You say that you can't take it anymore
The teardrops hit the floor

Drowning in the sea
But you're never going to be free

Your thoughts are only screams

There's nothing to say
Except "I'm okay."

Blood pouring like rain
Yet there's no pain
There was love all around, until I was
taken from the ground.

Now you look up at the stars every
night, just hoping that
everything will be alright.

I see the coldness
of the metal against your skin.

But I can't stop it now when you're
already inside my head.
Now it happens very quick!
Shh don't tell anyone but I'm quite sick!

All the pins drop and the clocks all tick.
Everything comes crashing down on everyone but me.

Oh can't they see my ***** little secret?
It leaves scars that nobody ever seems to see!
The trees that bear no leaves, and
one single red bird that sits upon the only evergreen tree.
Well this is the kingdom of isolation,
it has a broken Queen.

The only sounds that nobody ever hears are
her silent screams.
The screams of the past she can't let go, oh how they echo.

Well this is the kingdom of isolation, where
the floors are covered in broken glass and crimson snow.
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