#selfharmawareness
Trigger Warning: Implications of Self-Harm
A poem i made for a dear friend of mine.
# She Is A Nurse, In Life.
--
She is my friend.
She is a light to me.
She is so bright, that to her, she sees nothing.
And I am blinded, by her potential.
She is sweet.
She is broken.
She is capable.
She is hopeless.
She has potential.
But lacks inner focus.
She has a future.
But she sees no road.
She is a nurse.
She is certified.
She is a nurse.
She wants to save lives.
She is a nurse.
But does not want to save herself.
She is a nurse.
A nurse in life.
A nurse in life and a light.
She is a nurse.
Why can't she see that she is right?
She is my friend.
She is a light to me.
She has scars.
But that does not mean you can't be free.
||Your harm.||
||Your hurt.||
||Your sharp.||
||Your edge.||
||Your self-belief in destructive destiny.||
||It's not the end.||
||Why can't you see?||
||You are a nurse.||
||A nurse in life.||
||You want to save lives, but not yourself?||
It makes me angry.
It makes me passionate.
It makes me scared.
It makes me determined.
You are a nurse.
You are a nurse, a nurse in life.
||Put down the knife.||
||Put it down and listen to me.||
||Please.||
A world without you, is a worse one.
She is a nurse.
A nurse in life.
She is my friend.
She is a light to me.
Why can't she see it?
Why does she refuse to?
I will never know.
I can only pray.
Thank you, Z.
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 11:46 PM UTC
She had never liked wearing jewelry
Maybe it was because she feared it was too beautiful for her ugly soul
Or maybe it was because it touched her skin
Just like the metal the would trace her veins
It was
So cool and So soft
Yet it hid the urge she deeply desired
To itch her bones
To see what laid beneath her prickled pale skin
It looked pretty on others but she never remembered when she had planned to wear it
It wasn’t just memory
She never had the energy
Or that’s what she told everyone
That she never had the energy to make her face look like an angel
Or to wear her heart on those golden wings
Open wide
Instead her face remained perfect but not like Persephone
Her wings could not be seen for they were ***** and bind
So they had to hide
While she drank her tea
Vibrant and bold for all to see
Until the day where she wore a necklace every day
To hide the marks of her curiosity
To hide the holes in her heart
Her conscious was a bear that could not be tamed
Each mark
Each cut
A delicate and delicious thought
Each weapon a tool
To paint her body’s canvas
Once innocent and white
With fabulous flaws that made her human
Now splattered with the deepest parts of her soul
Pain has never been her goal
She had just lost all control
Even if she had wanted to find her inner lumen
Her heart held in hand
Beating slowly for all to hear
An anthem to know the end was near
Her life, her heart was in her hands
Everyone has control over their life
She thought
But her carving craving was one that could not
Down in the deep she drove her own ship
All could be over with one wrong move
One slip
And she could find the end of the bottomless blue pool
like the Titanic dip
Two terrifically terrible options
Die escaping her own creations
Or
Die in the stomach of the monster she created
An answer to all that she wonder
Just laid down under
Would that be too cruel
A bad thing to do
What if she didn’t like this life
wanted to skip
For her soul to stop speaking with her frozen lip
The world ended not with a bang but a whip
In her dreams she explored the clearest of skies
And the oceans below
Each beautiful blue wave felt like something new
Except the sea was not blue but red
Just like her skin, shattered from within
Just like the sheets where she rested her head
For she was dead
Forever asleep in her childhood bed
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 9:46 PM UTC
I clean the blade, the soapy sponge rough but thorough.
I place the dry onion on the board, staring at it closely.
Do I want onions in my meal? How will the others think?
Suddenly the knife and my hand take a mind of its own,
Ignoring what people might think, just for now
For now, it’s what I want.
I cut the onion; it’s fumes slapping me on the face.
I bare the pain, cutting deeper into the onion
My eyes well up in tears, but I am too close now
I am too close to those onions I want,
The satisfaction of those onions.
The feeling of cutting those onions.
I drive the blade recklessly, slicing and dicing the onion.
I wipe my tears, biting my lip from the pain of the onion.
But I know how the onion will taste later.
My guests walk near the kitchen; I could not embarrass myself with crying from this onion.
People will not take me seriously.
I keep wiping away the tears, but I do not stop cutting the onion,
The fumes continuing to hit my eyes, making every second feel regretful.
But there’s a pleasure I have cutting these onions
I know eating them later will make me feel better
Relief my stress.
So, I’ll cut my own onions.
May 5
May 5, 2026 at 6:17 PM UTC
Forgive me, I tried,
to fight the demons inside,
but I have to admit,
to it I did submit,
it becomes an addiction,
forcing me into submission,
Forgive me, I need,
to learn how to plead,
for it to leave me alone,
after all that it's shown,
I don't want to live like this,
but it's something I know I'll miss,
Forgive me, for I can't explain,
why I self inflict such pain,
or why I can't put down the blade,
and disappear in the shade,
but it's my way to cope,
at times when I've lost all hope,
Forgive me, I can't,
ignore the voices that chant,
telling me that I'm weak,
and other nastiness they speak,
demanding that I cut,
and forever be in this rut,
Forgive me, but they win,
I can't fight all this pain from within,
I need to feel the blood run,
the devil thinks it's fun,
that my final string has snapped,
and in this cycle I'm forever trapped
Aug 18, 2024
Aug 18, 2024 at 10:38 AM UTC
after 14 years of bullying and abuse,
mentally ill she seeks a thrill,
she seeks validation from anyone in this wide nation,
she just wanted some good attention,
to relief some of that tension,
she just wanted a friend,
but her autism made it hard to comprehend.
It started out so innocent,
she could not see his intent,
he moved in slow and calm,
he had her in the palm of his hand,
they finally met and behind all of the distress
she felt like he ment well
then it all turned around and became hell
he wasn´t who he said he was,
and the girl ran out of all her luck,
forcing her into submission,
he could do whatever he wanted,
bewitching - her with charm and kind words,
that innocent girl turned against the world,
the depression got worse,
and in the end she just wanted to purge,
she wanted it gone,
her family, her school the world,
she was alone,
nobody to her support,
and as the days grew old,
she made another attempt on her life,
she succeeded,
that´s how I wish It would have ended sometimes
but I kept going,
I held my head high,
I am not that innocent anymore,
and my soul is forever sore,
I´m still fighting my demons every day,
and I will for the rest of my life,
until I finally hit the hay.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 12:36 AM UTC
I did it good, I did it all,
I tried my best and I threw that ball,
I went to school, I did my job,
I worked my *** of even tho math was a flop,
I brush my teeth and I go to sleep,
but suddenly I´m wide awake,
nothing works not even counting sheep,
and I´m yet again loosing faith,
I can lay in bed for hours,
I realize that I have no real power,
so I shove a pill down my throat,
I´m ready for sleep I´m stoked
but all it does is make me dizzy,
and I´m getting cranky and pissy,
it has been like this a few days in a row,
and I want to get out of this deep dark hole,
suddenly I cant bring myself to school,
doing anything is a mess,
my bodys getting weaker,
and I´m collapsing underneath the stress,
I´m trying pill after pill but nothings working,
some makes me drunk,
others just makes me thirsty,
after hours of hours,
days and hot showers,
my memory is fading,
the room is once again shading,
I´m putting my my head on the bed,
lights go out,
and I´m finally at rest.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC