Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
July Gray Aug 2020
Do you know
How I turn my fingers down
How hard can my nails
Bite my flesh

Just hold it there
Imagine what it's like
To slice open-

****
There's blood
Blood is hard to hide

You're right in front of me
You're telling me you can't see
See me?

There's a scab on my wrist
There's a scab on each wrist
Maybe I deserve this
Why can't you see this

It's not healthy
It is wrong
So
I'm wrong

So Clearly I deserve this?

Can't you see me
You ask me how I'm doing
"Good"
Lies
"That's great"

You walk away

If I clench my fists tight enough
My nails
Bite my flesh
Again
(it's my second poem with a bad word :O)
sarah crouse Jul 2020
Soft and intimate
your lips brush the inside of my wrist.
The jump of my pulse
shows you've been missed.
Its moments like this
relaxing in the afternoon sun
with your sweet lips
I come undone.
LC Apr 2020
her teeth chattered
as the frigid wind
surrounded her.
he traced her wrists,
then held her hands.
her teeth fell silent
as his eyes met hers.
in that moment,
she knew he would stay
even during the winter.
#escapril day 21!
Linux Feb 2020
If she's not worth the blood,
then why bleed?
stop cutting your wrist
because of a love that wasn't even true.
Łëïçkî Feb 2020
Quick hands and light fingers,
trace the dips in my collar bone
and skip stones down my spine.
Touches burned into my skin,
like the scars left on my heart
and on my wrists.
forgive young stupid love
Poetic T Jan 2020
Everything on my wrist is real,
            the scares from my youth

to the stitches cut out of me on the street.

         But none of you will cut me further than


                                   I fell in the past, I rose up..
  

And now my heads up high..

You'll never put this fire out, the smoke
                  smoothing you..

Getting closer to the ground so my words
             don't suffocate you.
      but my foot greets your words cos that's where
            your words had worth on the ground.

The audacity that you could even raise above,
                          to think that you ever had a cut
that was deeper than I'd self-inflicted.

I'll stand under the lamp posts in the dark,
       easy target, but I'll see you coming.

Thinking I'm alone, but I have friends in the dark.
            you never had no moment to rise,
  you got swallowed in the dark.
                    Tied to a chair, coldness held to a temple
that you never prayed to, but you wish you had now..


You walk out a new man, respecting that
             I'm the  fire and the smoke,
                            and if you want to breath
                    
                               you better **** the ground and make

sure your words stay down.
I'm in the light
                           but I have friends in the dark.
        I'm on probation but shades have different
                               pockets that I fill deep..

Know pardon my words I have things on my
                  wrist that are life lessons,
    you ain't nothing but something to burn at my bequest.
Marri Jan 2020
In my fantasies,
The dark and deep,
Where fog pools at our feet,
And the cries echo in the distance,
And sigh in defeat.

You wait for me,
Standing in all your glory,
Laying out in all your pride,
You stare me down,
Hot and heavy,
With lust burning in your eyes.

You reach for me,
Fingers stretch,
You groan for me,
With slight hums under your breath.

Your skin meets mine,
The sparks erupt,
It's perfect,
Heavenly even.

You're my muse,
My inspiration,
My reason is you.

You hold my waist,
Nails digging in,
You lean,
Lips pursed,
We kiss,
Gently.

You press,
Harder, harder,
I bite your lip,
Breaking skin,
Breaking everything,
We sin.
Poetic T Sep 2019
They think, that I'm like
   a disowned  feline...

Throwing me out first floor
                    windows..

Do I land on my feet...…
               No I land on my ribs,

on my head, only scrapes..

But my ribs are broken like
             a chess board... one wrong move
and its check mate..

I'm dying where I lie...
             choking on the blood of my
             ******* world moves...


But I landed on my wrist...


They'll never catch my broken *******,

   broken slang.
      

But they knew what a hand held with another
                                                      meant..
a mangled ******* as I survived another day.


I came back like a bee looking to sting,
                     but the ones who fell out there nest


were stung by another not me..


I'll walk another day.. been stung a few times..
             but I learnt my lesson...


Don't mess with the nest unless you

                want to be in anaphylactic shock of


some random fools words

trying to prove,
                               some insecurity for an abandoned




father figure, that's compensated
by a bullet,
                          and a promise of we got your back.
Next page