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SWebster 16h
There: just under the surface,
I can see your truth seeping through,
I can hear the agony shattering your voice,
I can feel the tremor in your body.
Like a torrent of ice, you freeze.
For a second.
For a moment.
You know the truth is laid bare.
Needles and thread used to bind, used to hide.
There: just under the surface- nothing.
5d · 38
I Can’t
I cannot understand
what to do with
these emotions.
So intense, too much.
I can’t breath I can’t scream I can’t shout.
My voice has been choked from me,
Strangled. Silenced.
The rage- burning, wrapped around me, laughing.
So I breathe the only way I can: bleeding red, blue and purple.
The air escapes
And the fury retreats to watching and waiting.
Jan 8 · 289
So Pretty
SWebster Jan 8
So pretty
Adorning my skin;
So stark
Against my skin.
There’s no denying what you are
Only denying why you’re there.
I have been able to hide you
But if someone asked, what would I say?
Razor blade accident?
But why would it be:
so deep, so wide, so long?
(To keep me from loosing my mind.)
So pretty
Across my skin.
You call to me-
reminding me of the nights where I found release, where I found relief.
The pain only transferred never truly soothed.
Jan 6 · 29
Should know better
SWebster Jan 6
Such bitterness and such fury
Directed at you but really should be reflected
Time is the water to soothe
Reminding me that change is to come.
Dec 2019 · 106
Alone
SWebster Dec 2019
When do you feel the loneliness?
When the wind streams through the sky,
When the leaves are shaken from their branches;
When I see the blue overhead
And the lies in your smile.
When I see your eyes looking at me
And your words dripping from your lips.
That is when I know: I am alone.
Nov 2019 · 101
Crow
SWebster Nov 2019
It’s not big this crow of mine.
Head cocked, observing time.
Perfectly sized to sit upon my windowsill,
Reminding me that dread and fear are a bitter pill.
It calls to me
Stopping me.
I can’t hide and I can’t pretend,
It sees me, watches me my friend.
Waiting and lurking till the end.
Nov 2019 · 96
Steel
SWebster Nov 2019
I want to lie and be still.
I want to feel the burn building,
I want to feel the cold teasing,
I want to see the steel dancing across my body.
Drag and scratch.
Burn and play.
Nov 2019 · 98
Self Loathing
SWebster Nov 2019
Pitiful.
I sit with the blade in my hand
And all I’ve managed is a slice to the skin.
There’s no blood no tearing of the flesh.
I’ve returned to cutting
But I’m not taking this seriously.
Where once I would gouge a hole,
Where once I would part my flesh to see the blood run,
I am now a novice.
Just pathetic.
Oct 2019 · 124
Kiss
SWebster Oct 2019
What if I were to kiss you?
What if I were to lean across and place my lips upon yours?
Would you part you lips and stroke your tongue against mine?
Would you run your fingers through my hair and press me closer to you?

What if I were to kiss you?
What if I were to place my hand upon your thigh and run them a little higher?
Would you press your body to mine so that I could feel you against me?
Would you place your hands upon my hips to move me closer?

What if I were to kiss you?
Would you kiss me back?
Oct 2019 · 118
Owned
SWebster Oct 2019
I would strip each item away for your gaze.
I would stand to be adored,
I would obey to be controlled,
And I would bend to be touched.
The press of your hands upon my skin.
Marked and claimed and owned.
Oct 2019 · 74
Conquer
SWebster Oct 2019
Shore up the banks and wait for the waves to crash.
Sand slowly dissolving,
Taken by the water,
Stolen by the water.
The waves will come to conquer
And the land must surrender
Just the feelings of despair
Oct 2019 · 221
Pride
SWebster Oct 2019
There: skin dull and purple.
Here: I feel the ache, coloured blue.
Each one is wanted,
each one is displayed.
They have been earned.
I am able to take the pain,
I am able to endure the anger,
I have taken what was given.
I remain and the fury has been silenced.
Just some thoughts on how I felt when I was younger although I would probably feel the same if I were to do this again.
Aug 2019 · 115
A Letter
SWebster Aug 2019
Hey
I’m feeling pretty low,
Just feel adrift and stuck and don’t know which choice to make.
So I make no choice essentially,
the coward’s choice.
Looking at the thin strip of red-
barely visible, already fading-
I feel proud?? As though I have been resisting for so long, such an age and I finally managed it. I achieved a mark.
Albeit only a sliver, a skin scratch, one without blood
It gives me hope that there can be more
(A return to the past)
And maybe something deeper, one which will drip.
Something I’ve just written, a letter to myself.
Jun 2019 · 173
Witness
SWebster Jun 2019
As the sun tore through the clouds
It bled orange into the morning sky
While I stood idly by
Bearing witness to the silent death of the night.

— The End —