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Yemaya 4d
Mellifluous red noises
flow out from a violin like arm
with a bow of steel
and a song of death
Yemaya Jun 18
Therapist after therapist,
but their bought out kindness
can't wash away the taste of death
that I've grown fond of.
Yemaya Jun 18
To Yemaya,

Am I enough?
I've given you everything
I've hollowed myself out I have nothing left to give
my new shell is delicate and fragile
yet you do not handle it with care
Do you not have love for me at all?

From Yemaya,
February 2021
Yemaya Jun 18
the way they loom over
watching from cracks in doors
listening from windows ajar

they fear me

trying to discover secrets
about the enemy that resides within
this humble frame

for only I can be my saviour
but only I,
am proposed a foe
Yemaya Jun 10
you looked at me
as if I wore a ravens coat
This man has lost all twenty-seven emotions
Like a robot -
Any whiff of emotion even feels too much
Every word this man says is snubbed
Every sleep - his heart beats slower

          From the pain this man suffered

The drugs this man used to be
So afraid of -
Scares him no more
For it had almost wounded him
Right by his own bed

          Which he saw as a liberation

This man is tired
He's ended up becoming
What he used to fight against
It has consumed his soul
To the point of no recovery

         Which is no longer necessary

This man has zero life
He lives for no one
To be precise -
To pay the price -
This man shall die tonight

          At this point, death would hurt less
Note: This poem feature triggering topics (suicide,  drug abuse, self-harm, depression). Kindly restrict yourself from reading if you are sensitive to these topics.
N May 29
I could swear I’ve felt your touch once,
I wonder why you couldn’t
bare seeing my raw wounds?

You know,
it is never gentle to disturb
the dead with the promise of love
So why did you do it, darling?
Leah Carr May 26
I was 13 when I found myself scratching my hands
Fighting with the feelings from some unexplored land
A land of mortifying hurt and pain
A land that I never want to see again
But 2 years on, I still visit daily
Cause I'm still addicted to the feelings of agony
And taking them out on my body, battered and bruised
Much like myself it's been tortured and used
Not just scratching now but much more too
Doing things to my flesh that I know I shouldnt do
But the feelings they build, with every passing hour
I'm not doing this to hurt others
I'm not bitter or sour
I'm doing this because I'm addicted to the feeling
The rush of endorphins
When my head is reeling
The racing heartbeat thumping in my chest
Cause my heart knows I shouldnt
My heart knows best
But my mind is warped and confused and a mess
From fear and anxiety and depression and stress
So much so that I start to feel numb
Not feeling anything
So desperate to not succumb
To the darkness of empty
That fills up my head
As I lie upside down in the dark on my bed
So desperate to feel something
Anything at all
That again, I find cuts and scratches,
Appalled at myself
Knowing I cant afford to lose my existence to this
But still I keep cutting and scratching and all
Cause when I'm in the moment,
It feels like bliss
That feeling as your soul ignites with sensation
I visit that place and it's become a great nation
That so many others visit now too
But you cant reach them
Stuck in your own private battle
Fighting the voices that have appeared in my head
Whispering the words that I've learnt to dread
"Just one more cut"
"One more scratch"
They say
And I'm trying to tell them
I dont wanna play this game
But the voices get louder
And louder
And louder
All I need is to go back
With a sprinkle of forgetting powder
I just want to turn around
Go back to the start
But I can't, and you know why?
Because in part
The reason i did this
The reason i began
Was because i wanted the feel of that land.
Hannah May 24
out of my body
into my legs
my arms
the tips of my fingers

somewhere i won't feel it
Skin. Teeth.
Pressure. Exerted.
Tense. Held.
Push. Downward. Sunken. Underneath.
Retracted. Released. Resurfaced. Regained
(C) 2022
Trigger warning: non-suicidal self injury.
PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT IN A SAFE HEADSPACE. THIS PIECE DOES NOT PROMOTE SELF INJURY. IT'S AN EXPRESSION OF HOW IT FEELS. I AM NOT BY ANY MEANS PERSUADING ANY READERS OF ANY DEMOGRAPHIC TO ENGAGE IN THIS BEHAVIOUR.
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