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#wrists
The hall boozed with excitement. The first exam of your GCSE— it was a subject you could barely pass. And so you sat, while everyone else laughed, cried or revised, you closed your eyes. Your left hand on your right one’s wrist. Adding pressure to it as if to stop the bloodflow. More and more until someday a blade would no longer terrify your brain. Training yourself for the moment you died.
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Oct 1, 2025
Oct 1, 2025 at 3:12 AM UTC
Memories
"I wish I may I wish I might Have this wish I wish tonight" What is the wish I wish, To a mostly empty sky? There is none There's never one I instead hold up My carved up wrists Eight feet high And I don't wish, I cry the question why To no reply "Same as last night" I sigh Then wish the moon well Before my last goodbye ©2024
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Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 9:13 PM UTC
~•§•~ First Star I See Tonight ~•§•~
Dripping weekend wrist marks Dance in the happy rain Booming base and bleeding Let it rush down your face Feel it trickle down your tights It’ll all be over now.
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Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 11:20 AM UTC
Weekend wrists
I'm in this place a prison of homely comforts, that cut upon the wrists of                                           my sanity. I used to see the walls as collages of happier times. Now I just put lines of I I I I I I the seventh is my reality that I'll just start a new one. They look like I, I need, I want but never getting past the I... As I know I'm in here for the sentence              of security and life.                           But, why do I have to do it in solitary confinement, I'm                   so                         lonely...
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Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 4:34 PM UTC
Solitary Confinment
Wrists Childish wrists Soft and white Aside from a few lines Wrists Scarred and rough Raised along different points of the wrist Hundreds of lines on this one Old lines Wrists Bruises from a tight grip Soft little lines Not noticeable to anyone but the wrist Wrists Teary wrists Cried into often Soft and pale Wrists Everywhere On everyone Yet no one notices The little signs
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Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 11:39 AM UTC
Wrists
Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet, And so are you. But the Roses have wilted, And the violets are dead. The sugar bowl's empty, And my wrists are stained red.
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Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 5:38 PM UTC
Wrists Are Stained Red
I cuff our wrists together and tell myself you're deciding to stay
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Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
Stay
Everything That comes out my pen My brain And my wrists Unsatisfying Just simply Not enough It hard To feel proud When its nothing But trash
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Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 2:03 PM UTC
Unsatisfied
I want to drown I want to breathe the water in And never breathe out again I want the salt water to burn the fresh cuts in my wrists I want the dark to cradle me as I float into never ending sleep I want to drift off with no sign of life I want to drown
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Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 10:46 PM UTC
Drown
Tonight is a night of sorrow, a night of loneliness. Songs of death loom in a dark forest. Wolves vent their struggles. The beautiful one awakes. Wisps of death surrounds her pale form. A timeless dread fills me. Her inky black hair cascades over Frail ivory skin. her full crimson heart aches. Black tears streaming, streaming from her wrists. Tonight is a night of new life.
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Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 8:38 AM UTC
Night of New Life
She wears jewelry around her neck Diamonds Suffocating her in her sleep Bracelets of gold leaving her wrists bruised and blue Sweet little girl was a gift to a stranger thrice her age She is warned to never disrespect him, to always put his happiness first Daddy crying out of happiness Mommy crying, out of happiness Everyone cheering and dancing as she is forced on a chair bigger than her, in a dress she should have worn for prom first At the age of 14 told to act like a woman Carrying a ring on her finger, soon lives of her own She fears the night now As they are cheering in daylight, There will be no one to cheer at night Besides him
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
Bruised wrists
I was killing myself from the inside Once it overflowed to the surface It bled through my wrists I had told my body to hate itself So it tried to drain itself
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Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
Draining
I used to be pretty, but now I look sick. I used to be though, but now I feel weak. I can't help myself, so I became helpless. I am never leaving this bed which i'm drowning in, but I hope that someday I learn how to swim with the fish. Blood is rushing to the visible veins in my wrists and down my legs 'till it becomes hot at my feet and i'm standing in a red pool. And I wish I could swim with the blood cells. Endure more like suffer. And I might survive but i'm no survivor. I used to look sick, but now I look dead.
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Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 7:50 AM UTC
I used to be pretty
Let me tell you a secret of mine I think it’s time That everyone knows How broken I am Because no one knows How much my heart is shattered No one knows That my fate may be death And I don’t know if that’s my happy ending or not I miss my old self so much That sometimes it’s hard to remember why I changed in the first place And I want to go back But I don’t know if I could go back I don’t know if I want to go back I was shy and fragile back then I’m shy fragile and bit less of a crybaby now It’s just that no one knows That I still cry at night And I wish I could die And that I’ve wanted to place the razor to my wrist so many times No one knows That I miss me I miss me so much I want to be me again But I don’t know how I don’t know how I don’t know how I- Maybe I shouldn’t try at all I guess I’ll pretend to be okay
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Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
3.22.18
I've thought about it by "it' I mean suicide I've thought about it because I can't stand the thought of having to see my parents grow old I know I cannot see them screaming for help, looking for life and just finding death I've thought about doing it, really and I decided not to because my pain won't ever be as much as theirs would be seeing me with a void in my eyes and nothing in my wrists
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Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
white
Nothing is real Not the pain that you feel And the cuts on your wrist Shouldn’t exist Yet the scars are still there
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
Pain
She walked with the misfortunate, Their butterflies were broken Living with some suffering, While pain remained unspoken. She walked into a hospital, To find, a different shockwave, butterfly upon butterfly, lay buried, There in shallow unmarked grave.
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Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 4:12 PM UTC
Wrist Butterflies
She has tattoos covering her body Blanketing miles of skin Tattoos hidden from the world Endless swirls of words within Words anyone ever threw at her A porcelain doll forever embedded with a cry A cry for help that will never come For the tattoos are hidden to the naked eye No one else can see the stamps of hatred Inked permanently beneath her skin She just wants to run and hide them away Bury them along with her demons of sin Yet behind the blank stares they still whisper Ambushing her with more tattoos Fat   Loner       ******           Ugly             Worthless She begs for it to stop before she goes insane   Clingy       ******          ****             Useless Yet the words never stop inking her frame    *****       Failure          Burden            Disappointment            So to release some ink She paints on her skin With a paintbrush that stains red Down her wrists She writes some more If only you could take back what you said
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 6:39 PM UTC
Inked.
I could haemorrhage every verse that pains me. Lines that penetrate deeper than what is penned. Lying motionless on the wounds that never heal, confusion of what is my pain and written verse. I have hollow veins, nothing more to say, altercations of a heart and self. Looking beneath, I have scrawled a thousand pains but there is nothing is seen..
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Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
What Is Ink & Verses Of Hollow Veins
This is hard like yanking teeth or rising up from a warm bed at the beginning of winter. This is hard like stepping out of quicksand or thick mud like pulling a sled up a steep mountain in the midst of a hazardous blizzard. This is hard to lie and lie again but instead of shrugging off those lies like locusts or pestilence or bugs or mal intent a sanction needs to be clear and fully carried out. My actions need to reflect past words as rough and as raw as a sore throat swallowing cold water. To persevere is to not give up even when my mind is trapped in the heaviest of slumber. I have to do what needs to be done even though I'd rather slit my wrists or cut off my thumb.
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Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 1:53 PM UTC
Persevere
Forget the risks Cut the wrists Take the fall If that's what it takes, just end it all.
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Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 4:00 PM UTC
Suicide