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clever May 2018
No one else bleeds when they think.
Pretty on paper, just red ink.
It drips like tears when I weep.
It pools in my bed as I sleep.
Red waters surrounding a desperate isle.
It rises in my throat when I smile.
Only I bleed when I think.
It stains the office of my shrink.
I only drown when I think.
Tell me.
Bad Luck Jul 2018
Doing a dance,
to wear a mask,
To play a game that you can’t stomach . . .
Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you,
The way you recoil from reflections of yourself.

You’d forsake your happiness, your health —
                                                  You would burn it all.

To do a dance,
To wear a mask
To play a game you’ll always lose.
                                                  To look in a mirror . . .
             To tell an image, that it’s anything but you.

And it is in that moment, that you'll find
                                you tell the unfamiliar truth
As you bleed and feed your own obliterated youth . . .

To feel, and then
                          to lose —
Just like the loss you always knew

                          You would find in disappointment.
Like an unholy anointment
                          of your least desirable possessions
That retire from the heavens
                          Back to you.

To betray, and to amuse
The ides of irony rejoice!
               For they’ve found their lamb... or
their ever-dying muse.
                 Forsaking life itself, you clamor
To see others just like you.

And maybe, one day, one will choose
           the path that you can’t leave,
As it reciprocates to thee —
            Two partners in misery, fated to excuse
the waste of each other...
            until they find there’s nothing left.

To feel the flame within its breath consumed.

Wearing a mask,
To live a lie,
                And die a death,
                Whose dance you six-times misstep

                              And on the seventh, betrays you.

"Bad Luck: In a Wakeful Contradiction" is now available on Amazon in paperback!

Nuna Nov 2018
Forgive me if my pain has touched you in ways my hands never have
You’ve got wounds I should have kissed gently and fire beneath your skin

Instead I bought you flowers you’re allergic to and wrote poems about your tears

Some days I tend to over-romanticise your bleeding lips that you never stop biting
Other days I can’t stand the way your lips curve when you laugh and the freckles on your hands

I’m a mess but believe me when I say my hands are clean
I’m just trying to love you
Even if it’s the wrong way
I hope you get the message
Monika Layke Dec 2018
We use to sing
we use to shout
we use to bang heads
and wonder about
and now you've left
me a heavy chest
I guess I'll make
the best of the mess
you left me in, you left me in
but I need you
like winter
meets the spring
You know
I bleed you
how can I start again
'Cause I need you
like a razer
needs a wrist
I bleed you, I bleed you
in the mess
you left
When He/She is in pain
He/She tried not to write
With the grave thought
He/She turned gray
With the closed eyes
In the blur of night
Till the threshold
He/She bleeded words
That escaped as


Turned out
As an unapologetic beauty
A morbid sanity
Of eternal release
Genre: Dark Observational
Theme: When one is in pain, he/she just wishes to know, whose painkiller works || Touching Lives || A Call For Humanity
Note, hint, how to read: If you are gentlemale, just read he, and if you are lady, just read she.
Invisible Oct 2018
We all make our own choices.
We all want different things.
But inside,
We are all the same.

We all hurt.
We all cry.
We all make mistakes.
We all forget.

We've all gotten hurt before
And we've all hurt someone.
We may seem different,
But we all bleed red.
We are all people. Even outcasts are human. I would know.
Did you think, after all I've done
That it would be you who could bleed me?
Don't you know?
There is nothing left to bleed.

Come if you dare, let's make each other bruise
Sticks and stones and breaking bones
Pain is nothing
When you are already numb.

How can you bleed
From icy limbs where nothing runs
No blood drips, no red remains
It's like killing a corpse
You're trying to drain my empty veins.
Blood, death, power, killing, fighting, strength, fear, metaphor
Carter Ginter May 2018
I feel so angry
And I can't bring myself
To bleed out these feelings
Across this digital landscape
Because of course I'm in love with you

I don't know if I want to be anymore
So I'll let this blood pool

It seems as though
Everyone I am in love with
Causes me the most damage
While the ones I love less
Seem to love me the most

What a disgusting dichotomy
I feel so stuck in this

I love you
I hate you
I want to die
I don't care at all
I'm crying on my porch
I don't understand what to do
I don't know what I need

I say I need space
You turn around and say
It'll make you want to leave me
I guess if it's such an easy thought
Then it doesn't matter that much

And if I leave you myself
Then this will have all been for nothing
All that hurt
And all that love
All of the struggles we pulled through
Thrown away over one night
One "mistake"
That you probably don't see as one

It's as if you don't know me at all
Broken promises cannot be forgotten
Trust and respect
Those are everything to me
My entire existence originates there
You knew I'd be angry
But you chose to continue instead
So why do I even care
If you clearly don't?
Kerli Tulva Oct 2018
The feeling has not eluded yet
the rain not ceased or silenced
still you say somewhere far
that music, it engulfs it all.

In the bright nigh of spring
while all the flowers whisper
and water streams of happiness
life here is never meaningless.

The songs of birds and trees
the sound of pure liveliness
and you murmur, it recedes
when the music of heart bleeds.
Traveler Mar 14
It's not there any longer
That sparkling loving glow
I see you reaching out for
Someone else to hold...
You've an itch deep beneath
Scratch it as you may
I will write this unread poem
And bleed another day!
Traveler Tim
cait-cait May 2018
i would **** for you —
you know ,, ?

stain my white dress in red :
you .

blood dripping down a
i would swear i never

they would end up catching me
of course ,

they always do —

the devil would sneer
disappointed ,

lace dress tight —
her lips curled in painted pink ,
when everything seems
h o t .

               she knows
i would **** for you,
would never,
"well here we are again, its always such a pleasure"

i saw that funny tumblr post that said "its hotter than the devils p*ssy in here"
thelemonpolice Jul 2018
What a pretty holiday
I wish that I had gone
But did you know that all they did
was post it on their phones?

What amazing friends they have
I wish that I had more
but actually these people have just met
and are a bore

What a funny club night
I feel left out again
Well maybe its another way
to drown out all the pain

What a lovely boyfriend
He bought her lovely gifts
but do you know that hes repaying
her for all his sins?

Pretty pretty wedding pictures
for everyone to see
did you know he sometimes
"accidentally" makes her bleed

happy shopping family
filling up a cart
did you know the parents
can't grow love in their hearts?

Happy, smiling faces
I wonder what they've seen
and why they have to force a smile
on pictures on this screen

Lovely posing woman
why do you hold your breath?
How many pictures did it take
to make you look your best?

Is it worth it? Is it needed?
to get approval from your 'friends'?
Are we worthy? Are we needed?
does it matter end?
Wow thank you so much for all the attention of this poem. It really means a lot. If you liked this, check out my YouTube channel too ❤️
Atlas Feb 3
My heart was battered and bruised
And although I was wary of loving
I couldn't help but fall for you
You nursed my wounds
Telling me you loved me

Then you left

Leaving a tear on my heart
Worse than all of my previous bruises
This time I won't scar
Without you I'll bleed out

You were selfish
And now I am gone

Scar: A mark left on the skin or within body tissue where a wound, burn, or sore has not healed completely and fibrous connective tissue has developed.
Robin Lemmen Aug 2018
Our entire relationship I felt
like all I was doing
was waiting for you and I to break
like goodbye was only one kiss away

And when I finally started feeling
like maybe, just maybe
we would prove ourselves wrong
you left me in shambles on the floor
shards of our favorite memories
cutting deep and letting me bleed
flowers painted red

I can't seem to escape
everything feels laced
with your winter remnants
blooming a stark white contrast
to my deep dark wounds
leaving broken roses everywhere
muna Jun 2018
I can never cut.
But sometimes I swear,
It feels like wounds are being carved into my heart,
And I wonder if carving these wounds unto my skin
Can relieve it.
This kind of pain you can’t reach;
No matter how far into yourself you stretch,
If I could grab my heart and squeeze it till it is numb;
Like I would if the knife slips;
Till all the red in my finger fades away;
Till all the pain in my heart fades away.

I can never cut.
Except with the words I stick myself with everyday.
You taught me how to self-harm, I took the blade from you,
And convinced myself that it hurts less if I’m the first one to say it;
That if I kept cutting at my heart,
If I kept giving myself scars,
Then the ones you gave me didn’t matter.
And I never let them heal;
The wounds,
They never heal.

I can never cut.
Because for the life of me I cannot get accustomed to pain.
I cannot get accustomed to you hurting me over and over again.
I cannot get accustomed to bleeding inside.
My wounds are too afraid to be seen.
My wounds refuse to etch themselves unto my skin;
To be so bold.
I cannot wear myself inside out;
My pain inside out.
But I swear,
When these wounds are being carved into my heart,
I consider if carving them unto my skin,
Will ever relieve the pain.
please don't cut.
XyL0S Oct 2018

As I cried
and cried
and cried,

I longed to bleed
the words
the tip of my tongue
till within,

As I wrote
and wrote
and wrote,

The tears had

poetry held me up
when I was
most alive,
And it still
carries me on
as I break and shed.

Poetry is _______?
Lizzy Jan 2015
Grayness swells above,
It rains glass drops from heaven
They shatter on me.
The glass will not make me bleed,
My skin is hardened as stone.
Get the reference
Johnny walker Nov 2018
I was always told
self-harm was a
cry for help, not
true self-harm
is pain one has
to have to feel
alive when I was
a Kid through
the abuse I took to
would slash my
wrist to see the
blood to feel the
pain, not a cry
for help but to
feel the pain and
feel alive
Self-harm was pain I needed to feel  alive
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