A little box
Without a key
You hold an air
To sit and glare
Right up there
Flashing red in front of me
I am the one who fills it
And I fill it with myself
No one would guess what's in you
Sitting up atop my shelf
I have thought of your discovery
And all the cons
But looking at my history
All candidates are wrong
So I suppose you'll stay a secret
I'll keep you to myself
Little box on my shelf
Please forget you saw this
Yall feel free to tell me why you guys all like this poem so much. Curious
Oh sickly poisonous flame
Darting back and forth
I hear you call my name
It's not what they think, for what it's worth
One slip of the finger
And a tingling sensation
Smells of gas linger
Now for use of personification:
Its seems that you love me
For you never let me go
I feel pitiful in your embrace
And it seems that you know
You always take control
And oh how I'm fascinated by your flame
Skin swells and pain holds
In this endless torture game
What an appalling desire,
your heart beats so fast.
An unsettling ritual,
which refuses to pass.
A nagging numb need,
you must feel something;
go make yourself bleed.
Get it out, act now.
You wait for the great release.
One slice turns into more,
and you need it to hurt.
No one must notice,
hence the morbid allure.
You can’t stop the impulse,
once the fuse is lit.
You tremble with sickly delight,
after every slit.
You’re almost done,
carving your skin.
The pain seems gone,
but it won't be for long;
still for one moment,
you heard that sweet song.
When a storm comes
I long to return to my old friend.
Their shelter, their cage,
A haven and a hell.
A sliver of light
Promising shelter from the
Noise and pain I don't want to handle.
I know you.
You're the one
Who said stay with me and
You'll be okay.
You let me believe I was in control.
I thought I was outside of the prison bars,
Until I tried to leave
And I found the doors to be
I know you.
We can't be together anymore.
The water haunts my house. Appearing so very often.
The nights on which it comes
tears apart all in its path.
No one can stop it.
It burns as it gets a hold of your throat and kills your insides with each sip
a sip so deadly you don't realize there until it hits you so hard you cant stand
correctly, so hard it slurs your words and will make you feel what anger is trapped deep inside you
So deadly it makes you feel as if your dependent on it.
It is planted in your mind,
making you think of it every second of the day, craving the sweet relief of unquenched thirst.
Water kills you and the ones who love you.
Water needs to stay in the cabinet tucked away
where no harm is done.
So my dad will no longer hurt himself or me and mommy.
He is not deadly just the water that kills and injurs.
The water haunts my house.
When we first got together and
You taught me how to kiss
It was a shock to come to know
That pleasure has a fist.
We are not taught as children
Playful Tigers come with risks -
The tongue can be a dagger
As it pierces with a twist.
Did you know before we met
Or was I the catalyst?
Did I wake those demons in you
Like the monologue insists?
You rained on me like fire
So hot it made me hiss,
Then like a glacier in my arms
You pierced me with a twist.
All your stories made me trust you.
Your lust made me enlist
In your army of surrender
The perfect activist.
See me kneeling down before you
The execution fast and slick -
I want now nothing less from you
Than you pierce me with a twist.
Torturer and Victim
How has it come to this,
On a sunny day in heaven
The war of shame persists?
Your compliments are scissors,
Your caress is salt and grit -
Right there from my mirror
You stare, piercing with a twist.
A bit of a wreck
But you never fail to smile at yourself when you mess up
As you always do
That much is clear
But your smooth laugh puts the whole room at ease
No matter how scarcely it surfaces
You've been hurt by everyone
But you'd rather die
Than put someone down
Because you truly believe every achievement is worth all the stars in the sky
Sometimes it's a little annoying
But who can blame you
You mean no harm
You're self conscious
I mean arent we all
But you put everyone else back together so they cant resist to love themselves a little more
No matter how much
I've done it again.
It still hurts deep within.
I only do it to know that I'm alive.
I know how you feel inside.
I have a scar to hide.
I failed you that night.
Even if you
can not hear
I'll be right
this is for you- XII - V - MMXVII, I should have saved you
I wrote a note today, how I felt. I was finally honest, even if only with a piece of paper. I loved that note, the comfort it gave me. It didn't cry or shame when it heard my pain. But like scars, it was visible. It could be seen. So I had to shred my honesty, piece by piece to make sure no eyes would see my insides. My words were not for anyone but myself. The graphite on my fingers is easier hidden than the blood on my skin. So tonight I wash my hands, so I can write again tomorrow.
I was pushed into somewhere I didn’t want to be
I had no where to go but in there
There where it was nothing but shadows,
The screams of terror were silent to ones who could hear
The tears of the pain were the happiness of ones face
The scars on their arms were teased
The hand that wrote that beautiful song and brought joy into people
Were the same ones that held that blade in sadness
And you shook it
I was lost with
Not even love
Crying because I thought there was something to be
You meant everything to me
You knew that
You knew that I cared
And you let me go
You put me though something I didn’t even know existed
You like playing games
Games that leave me with nothing but pain and sadness
I hate you
But I love you
I don’t want anything to do with you
But I want you to come back
You coming back would make me happy
But you don’t care
I’ve spent days at a time thinking about you
And the type of love you give to people
You make me sick
And I will never respect you
But I still love you somehow
A knife has ploughed into my wrist,
tearing my veins like little blood-red strings.
A knife is maneuvering through my arteries
slicing and dicing like a butcher.
The tip of the blade has survived
the journey to the other side of my wrist
leaving a cavernous hole of flesh and mangled meat.
The knife is not done, it wants more flesh.
Blood is spurting onto the floor,
Morphing into a scenic red painting.
The blood looks like grape juice spilling out of
my straw of an artery.
Did you think that the knife was the slaughterer?
A hand is directing the knife.
A hand is training the knife to carve out
my mashed wrist into smuttier mesh.
The fountain of blood spraying around the room
is making me dizzy.
My ruby eyes follow the faint pathway of the hand
controlling the piercing blade;
up the forearm, round the elbow, along the shoulder,
till I can't look anymore. Why?
I'd be glaring into my own ruby red eyes,
Welcome to my room
Where sadness blooms into hatred
And your thoughts beat you to the floor
There's a place to sit
So you can cry
Or maybe you'd prefer to lie
There are so many options
And don't forget the bathroom
It has an endless supply
For instance you could watch yourself bleed
Oh my room is so welcoming
With every self loathing thought
I've spent so much time here
I'm destined to rot
i sit with my legs uncrossing on the toilet seat, 7th period
smells of puberty
of wasted ambition and scathing regret of everything
of whispered secrets and sore thighs, ***** dripping out between your lips into the bowl
of tortured angst, of pulling your skin taut and drawing the blade against you over and over, for trusting someone like him
of hope that the next day will be better than today (it isn't)
of high school.
written in 2018