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K Aug 2018
These open cuts lay open in remembrance of you.
Everything we had,
All that we did
All who we are, was-
and still is up to you.
You made a choice,
And picked your sacrifice.
You tossed me to the side-
As a new woman caught your eye.
Captivated by her beauty,
As if mine wasn't enough.
Constantly mystified by the twinkle in her eye-
As if mine wasn't worth the time.
You bruised me,
Your ignorance abuses me.
So these open cuts lay hollow,
And beg for your return.
Hoping one day you can heal them.
And ignite the fire that was never burned.
JayceeJellies Oct 2014
People just don't understand that my scars are part of what make me who I am,
I may have created them out of foolishness,
but they were debated over agony in the purist.
You may look at me differently because of them,
and of course I understand that,
they are not what make me pretty, nor friendly.
But they remind me that I am not always correct about everything.
They remind me that pain is real.
That I can feel whatever I want to feel in this insane world,
and even though I did make them myself,
I can remember the pain that was felt that in fact inspired them.

and now late at night when the silence creeps in,
I cannot sleep because I remember back then.
and the pain that you dealt may have been done in secret,
but either way you knew that I would hear it, and I will not say a word of hate towards you,
because we were small people in the middle of the sea.
And when I look down I have a constant reminder of that,
but I am stonger now, because of all the tears you caused me to cry.
I will stand taller now, because of your cruelties towards me.
I'll know not to cry next time.
Because in that situation it made things worse.
Poetiknjustice Nov 2018
Knew from the first kiss it was gonna end like this/but I'm addicted to this pain,baby I'm such a *******/so hurt me please with the razors in your lips/I've felt nothing for quite a while, but never nothing quite like this/love the way you take me in while I sip this poison from your skin/so if you’re gonna be the death of me, then let’s make it Macbeth up in this *****/let me write a couple acts/ while you try not to act impressed/ but I love the way you can't seem to hide the shaking in your legs...
Jai747 Dec 2018
There are cuts and bruises no one sees.
Hurt between the kisses you give to please.

At first we met your affection seemed so deep.
You overwhelmed me into my love sleep.
Adoration was given to and in return.
You found your saviour, but soon your heart would turn.

I was a white knight on a tall hill.
I was happy & confident, I was never still.
My armour was silver, my helm in gold.
I had even become brave and bold.

You were a Princess in a dark cage.
Little did I know it was made by your rage.
Your past full of monsters and a traitor.
How I would regret not seeing the truth until much later.

I came forward and shone a light on the key.
I told you, that you were brave and strong and to let yourself be free.
Joined together burning bright.
I never knew being with someone else could feel so right.

Our love was passion, a blazing fire.
Any sorrow, I thought, was left on the pyre.
But when love burns bright, a lesson learnt.
The greater a love, the easier it is to get burnt.

When some had been hurt to their very core.
It is true, that love, they can accept no more.
A dark side of your character, you kept all too hidden.
Your deepest heart I was kept out and forbidden.
For how can you truly love without being vulnerable.
Meanwhile my love for you was unassailable.

The first few cuts I knew!
Why would you do this?
Even if it was but a few.
When I raised my voice at what was amiss,
You calmed my doubts and sealed them away with a kiss.

For a while all was fine.
But the cuts came again, one at a time.
It was wrong, it was wrong, this I knew.
But my love for you just kept saying; it is all but a few.
You only hurt me like this, when you felt scared and alone.
All would be fine, I said, as long as you knew I was your own.

Any query or doubt that came to my mind.
You brushed it aside for me never to find.
Cuts came deeper than ever before.
Yet I protected you from all others, even as I became sore.

My friends and family, you pushed them away.
By subtle pressure or by storms a-fray.
Again and again, I was never enough.
So you cut me and bruised me and treated me rough.
Never a mark you left on my clear skin.
But inside you tore me apart until I  became thin.

My armour that you once found so bright.
You pointed out every mark and scratch in sight.
Chip, chip away at my very soul.
Because it was all about you at every toll.

You broke my sword and shattered my shield.
Diminished and weakened you cast me on the field.
The monsters you had ran from, were all inside.
They came out to greet me and wash me away with the tide.

You were like a vast ocean, a passionate storm.
But you were wide and shallow, not deep in form.
I stood and I stood amongst the swell.
But what ever I did it could never end well.

You told me of all the people who had let you down,
But battered and broken I still held up your crown,
But in the end the dark empty place inside,
No love could fill it, no matter how hard I tried.

You walked away- back to your cage, saying it was never right.
But what happened to your fair and wonderful knight.
Laying in his armour broken and battered.
So came forth his friends and his family and everyone who mattered.
They took it all away to heal his heart,
But all they found was ash at the start.

As they held the ash in their hands,
An ember they found in the black sands.
They protected it from wind and the storm.
Hoping against hope that one day their knight would be reborn.

At first the light was still.
Twice it nearly flickered to nil.
But caring patience won the day,
With love and protection a spark lit up the grey.
First once and then twice, before born again a tender flame.
Silently in the darkness they whispered his secret name.
The little flame that was lit,
Still fragile and ready to quit.
But with every passing hour,
Little flame rose taller like a tower.
After countless time as a little light,
It Turned to the stars and shone bright,
A blazing fire lighting up the night.

From the shadowed prison bound,
A dark thing wept without a sound.
The fair knight stood once more on a hill.
A blazing light that stood still.
Through the darkness of its own veil,
The creature sat interned and pale.
Waiting for her new knight,
Or a monster she could blame with spite.
All the while she hid her eyes,
Knowing not to look up into the skies.
For high above stood a knight so bright,
His world no longer a terrible blight.
Surrounded by friends, love and glory.
This is the truth, my life, my story.
Not entirely finished it needs work
viola Jun 20
Have you ever cut your hands
picking up
someone else's broken pieces?
shed blood
as they walk away
with the only band-aid.
JB Feb 11
In an attempt to scratch the itch under my skin
caused by a hundred breathing irritants
I take a blade and when they ask

Oh this? It's just a scratch

In order to filter the thoughts in my head
I crack it open with a can opener

In trying to find the answer
And filter this poisoned blood

I poisoned my self with terminal self destruction

In an attempt to filter the blood contaminated with wrongful thoughts
I bleed from my irritated layers
As if the air will give a transfusion to heal this ****** up life
Philomena Feb 12
I walk this empty street
And I can't help but wonder
Why it has to hurt so much
The pain of being alive
And I'll make another cut
Bleed in another ditch
But lastly
I'll think of you
With your warm voice
And your cold heart
And believe me
I can't wait to see you again
JayceeJellies Nov 2014
Tears,
Shatter.
The floor,
Cracks.

Against the splashes,
You hear them splat.
Your heart beats furiously.
The girls heart breaks.

She falls.
Eyes shut.
The hits,
Leave cuts.
Her smile,
Vanished.

Against her own will,
She lashes.
Screaming,
"Mother, no!"
CK Baker Jan 2017
Thank you ~
for a life not to trade
blessings, in spades
tight spaces
behind laundry doors
packed closets
and open drawers
gator tails, tarnished brass
cracks in kitchen sliding glass
wet towels, withering plants
foundation filled
with carpenter ants
buckets piled with
shoes and tags
village clothes
and saddlebags
peeling paint
and broken walls
****** seats
in bathroom stalls
clogged pantry
frigid rooms
table scribe
and carbon fumes
comfort capsules
empty tanks
broken limbs
from children’s pranks
**** finger
double tongue
long goodbyes
and sidewalk dung
cluster flies
chavie’ clique
accompanying
the hypocrite
cracked back
and hidden smiles
chalk on board
with mr miles
atomic wedgies
closing doors
wrotten eggs
and open sores
jaw jack
nasty folk
dinner calls
for pig in poke
penny pinchers
double dip
yellow mouth
and silver tip
brown nosers
thick red tape
paper cuts
and pimple nape
gallivants
so out of norm
the joy of life
in basic form
The Guardian Sep 2018
She Cuts Too Deep
Gypsy grant her wish and take her away
She cuts too deep, her riptide veins are dry like Spanish wine

The world brings pain to her shed, she cries too much her salted tears killed her mother's favorite flower.

Her pillow speaks ill of her, she sleeps no more. Her entwined stomach grows lonely, full of rage she eats no more.

She's lost in the dark, lost in the delicate night's of September. Gypsy show her a glimpse of light, show her where words of wisdom are written.

Her eyes are starring at the galaxy from far, she's trapped in the clouds isolated from the treacherous crowds.

She cut's too deep the ground is familiar with the taste of her bone marrow, Azrael sticks around but the pills won't go down fast enough.

Gypsy grant her wish and take her away
Take her to a place of sonnet's, a place of rhythm and rhyme, a place of poet's.
Azrael- The God Of Death
Tee Morris Mar 10
trigger warning?

I've always had a missing piece of my heart
Me and you were meant to meet
We've never been far apart
  
Temptation has been kicking in and I lied
Despite that, Today I tried to give up the blade
But I took it and now I hide

You've tried to keep me strong
But I'm too weak
I'm too blinded by temptation's song
another for my boyfriend...enjoy x
Tyler Atherton Aug 2018
Tell me,
How many sips does it take,
How many puffs does it take,
How many pills does it take,
How many cuts does it take,
How many attempts does it take,
To feel the way I do?
To hurt the way i do?
To be the way i am?



© Copyright Tyler Atherton
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