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Sep 2019 · 181
My body
Stine Sep 2019
My heart
Beating
My lungs
Breathing
How I miss those little things
I'm dead, yet alive
I can walk
I can talk
But I'm not human anymore
I feed on blood
The one thing I love
The sweet taste
A taste of pleasure
How I love it
But the way I get it
Makes me cry
I hate to ****
I'm no murderer
I'm just me
But I'm not human anymore
Sep 2019 · 117
Alone
Stine Sep 2019
Fire, smoke
Bodies every where
Death has come
Death has gone
Many souls were taken
I saw him
But he didn't take me
Why!?
I want to go
To where Mom and Dad is
Why!?
Why didn't you take me?
It was my fault the fire started
Now I'm all alone again
Is this my punishment?
I'm
All
Alone
Sep 2019 · 355
Blood
Stine Sep 2019
The pain
The knife
The blood
The sweet sensation
Red on white
Dead in my arms
Slowly enjoying
Pleasure
Pain
I give my blood in return
Leaving me drained
Thirst
Lust
Lost in the night
Killing
Feeding
Finally full
No longer alone
Sep 2019 · 49
What if
Stine Sep 2019
What if you
wanted to cry, but had no tears
Wanted to scream, but no sound came out
Wanted to feel pain, but no matter how many times you cut you felt nothing
There was only silence and blood nothing else
Because the pain inside is to big to let anything else matter.

But then what if
Someone suddenly saw your tears, heard your scream, felt your pain, and see the blood running down your arm.
Would you let them in?
Or would you try to keep a distance so you won't be hurt when they give up on you?

Would you take the chance to be free?

I don't dare.

But it was not my choice in the first place.
Sep 2019 · 132
Angels
Stine Sep 2019
The angels hate to cry
I lay in my tomb of sorrow and tears
I can hear an angel cry my name
It's tears is dripping down on my poem
And then I wonder
Does angels exist?
Or do they only exist in my dreams?
How will I ever know
The blood from my wrist will give me the answer soon
Sep 2019 · 58
The knife
Stine Sep 2019
The knife against my wrist
Waiting for the pain
Waiting for the blood to come out
Look how it runs down my arm
The beautiful colour on my white dress
Too much blood
I cut too deep
I feel how my life runs out
Drop by drop
Spilling out on the floor
Making a sea of red
I smile
It's finally over
I feel no more
Only darkness is left
And I will great death with open arms
I wrote this while struggling with depression, i am no longer suicidal. Death is not the answer. But it has and will always be a big part of me
Aug 2019 · 100
My head
Stine Aug 2019
Some times the sounds in my head is so loud, I just wanna scream to block it all out.
But no matter how much I scream and shout, it seems I can never really block them out.
The higher I scream the louder it sound, until my voice no longer can make a sound.
Now outside it's silent, but inside so loud, what can I do to block it out?
The screaming don't help neither does crying, I try laughter I try anger, nothing is helping.
In the end I sit in seemingly silence, but really the voices are so loud. I can no longer deny them, they are all that fills my head.

— The End —