Beauty flared from petals of blood.
Hypnotising passionate love.
Blushing with heat fiery.
Beauty deceiving, darkness swallow.
Thorns sharp, deep scars.
Prickling with betrayal.
Howling with pain.
Revenge. Fury.
Beauty

Don’t play with trust
Is not a toy
When it’s break
The sharp broken parts
Can cut you up
And make you bleed.

Even if your way
Is full of sharp shards
I'll pick you up
And walk through the shards
Because I'm ready
To take your pain.

I have once again, left
open the door to
my heart and
the wasps have found
their way in.
The fluttering in my bones
was not from the
butterflies.
It was the sharp sting of
falling in love
with you.

And like my favorite song
You've been on my mind since I heard you.
Escalating into the next time I hear you.
Out of the blue into my life.
The rumble of thunder.
A silent lightening.
The way you strike.
That word like food with fondest memory.
Too soon.
Defenseless to sudden strike.
Everything around shook in heavy appetite.
The way you've come in my life.
Flashing.
Revisiting everywhere you've been.
Until I see you again.
Flashing into my life
Sharp and silent.
In unending storm

As the rusty metal slides across my vein
I can’t help but cry out in pain
Not the pain of the sharp *******
The pain of my mental deviation
The red beads don’t pile up like they once did
I don’t hurt myself the same way I did as kid
Now I have more finesse and poise
I make art out of my injuries and treat my blades like toys
They itch after they bleed but it serves as a reminder
Yet to my destructive nature I’m just a little bit blinder
With each minor slice and crimson lined splice
I attempt to soothe my inflamed skin with cold ice
Always scarring even the smallest ones count
No matter if it’s a scratch or a **** in any amount
I choose to bleed and hurt myself
I hide them with hairbands in optimal stealth
I deserve the pain I inflict on my arm
There isn’t a day where I don’t think of self harm
Age has no impact when you’re willing to die
You don’t outgrow these tendencies and if you think you can that’s a lie
It haunts you when you’re awake and even more when you sleep
You count the cuts on your wrists instead of counting white fluffy sheep
Stripped of my childhood I was taken too early
Twelve years old when I started down this path surely
Not knowing how my life would have changed
Not understanding how my thoughts would become so deranged
I look at my scars and I smile inside
I remember every event because with each one part of me died
Six years later I’m still learning to cope
I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel but I do my best to hope
Because although it’s not visible that doesn’t mean it isn’t there
It’s like the sun caressing your face or the wind brushing your hair
Maybe one day I’ll make it out of this abyss
But for now I’m stuck with death’s kiss on my wrists

Actually scratch that.

I miss the things we planned to do,
The drives
The lunch dates
The lazy mornings watching movies
And how our just woken up tongues would taste.

I miss the memories I hoped to have,
But I guess you didn't think the same

I'm not quite sure what I said,
Why it all turned out this way
Or what caused you to leave me sitting alone in that park.

Maybe it was the alcohol,
Or maybe you were afraid of what might happen.

Either way.
When I looked down at you
That one lazy morning,
Right before you gave up on me,
I wanted you
With all my heart

But in your eyes I saw how apprehensive you were.
I saw the barbed wire around your tongue
And the metal fences behind your eyes I'm not strong enough to climb.

It doesn't help you kept building it higher.

So to make it simple.
When people ask me what's wrong
Because they see the bags you left under my eyes
Or the flesh you took that used to pad my ribs.
I remember how I came home smelling like you
Because we hadn't stopped touching each other for hours.

And I'll tell them,
I had a few late nights
Waiting for a friend to get home
So I knew they were safe.

If we are being honest
I know you will come home,
But I am not your home.
I tried,
I would have done close to anything to be

But I was too weak to climb your fenses
And I cut myself too many times on your sharp edges

If you hadn't left I would have let myself be cut to ribbons.