It is so real to me.
I see it's harmless name everywhere, and it looks so innocent off of the context of your skin.
It haunts me where ever it is or whatever state it is in, and it is so shadowed to me.
But also extremely real, and vivid.
So chilling, but it also sets me to fire.
I see other harmless names and I am foreign to the lands of those graves.
I am glad, but I hate that this stands out to me.
I am walking the path of the graveyard, and will I fall in to my likely grave?
Or will I break off onto the swept path?
I will not know, but I am passing the graves of others who have succumb to the rough grips of these names.
And on these graves there are things written, telling what pushed and buried them in these graves.
And I see many empty graves and blank headstones ahead.
I know that mine may be waiting for me, and self harm is pushing me along the path to it.
Still, I am pushing back and I will ***** the swept path with my muddy feet.
And once I am there I will run far away and never let myself be pushed again.
I will not be buried in the dirt of self harm.

Poetry has become my self harm,
I only write at my lows...
Instead of blood I see words,
Instead of a blade I have a keyboard...

I want to write about...
The wind dancing with the sea...
Or...
The way you smile and it lights up your innocent face...

I don't want poetry to be my self harm,
Because poetry is beautiful...
An art...
Not.
Just.
Blood.
And.
Scars.

self harm takes many forms
from wrist lined in white
to burns on thighs

but i learned
it's much more than that
it's holding everything in
it's those negative thoughts i think
it's when I bite my inner lip
to remind myself that
any day,
i could decide i don't want to live

self harm is
so much more
than those white lines
or burn marks.

-r.y.s

We all have our scars,
Yours on the inside,
Mine on my arm,
We all have our stories,
Yours you share,
Mine I try and hide,
We all have our day,
Mine just so happens,
To be fifty years before yours

I'm a ghost and everyone knows it.
Peoples words flow through me at high speed.
People walk through me as if I wasn't there.
Who am I? Who was I?
Is this even real or is this just another dream, another nightmare?
Another death, or a new beginning?
The roses blossom and everything starts to get better.
But one day a twister hits and I the ghost is blown to bits.
My wrists are bleeding, tears a flow.
As I say to myself "Its time to go back to my world of other ghosts."
I say "Its been fun.  I'll miss you all."
As I close my eyes, and i fall.
But this isn't goodbye, and that's all.

"I'm fine," she says with a halfhearted grin.
"I'm fine," she says again, waving away a helpful hand.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, several minutes later.
"I'm fine," she whispers, wiping her face.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says moments after the cry leaves her lips.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, sinking to the floor.
"I'm fine," she tells herself, shaking in a ball.
"I'm fine," she repeats, picking up the razorblade.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says to her concerned family.
"I'm fine," she insists as those who love her worry.
"I'm fine," she says to anyone who listens.
"I'm fine," she lies as she slices her wrists.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she cries, sobbing on the bathroom floor.
"I'm fine," she wails, but only in a whisper.
"I'm fine," she mutters, watching the blood leave her wrist.
"I'm fine," she practices, stepping from the room.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she assures the world outside.

I abandoned you,
and we are still not talking.
Maybe it just hurts;

I fall in love fast,
but this distance was hard to
acknowledge at first.

I knew we couldn’t
satisfy each other so
I had left in shame.

Then I was *******
strangers to fill a void where
I tore out all love.

Someone read my soul.
You know I don’t believe in
spiritual ****,

but it was gorgeous.
I read myself as something
that you wouldn’t want.

I tried to find me,
but getting closer to me
was further from you.

I acted like it
was okay to keep you on
a string, just because

that’s how I felt too.
Second hand, second rate, I
wasn’t good enough.

But now I can see.
This fight to be important,
to feed my ego?

Rotten perfection.
I offered you something I’m
incapable of.

I’m hurt and sorry.
I’m not a lover… **** I’m…
not even a friend.

I’ve never been good.
My father, my mother, you,
I just cut things out.

My ex-girlfriend, or
my oldest friends, my brother.
I’m cut full of holes.

I’ve kept people here
Long as I could lie to them.
I’m not lying now.

I was happy to
pull a new honesty out,
but I lied to you.

You attacked me and
I deserved it completely.
I had just forgot.

Maybe it still hurts,
I’m numb in my fingertips.
I abandoned you.

Two taken three with one left behind.
But behind was were learning and understanding abide.
Lost in the fur and silky escape.
I lied like a beast and frowned upon hate.

But deep in my heart it exists like a thistle.
Ready to stab and **** with a whistle.
He hastened to three and then four five and six.
He's a crafty one, I love him like thiiiiiiiiiiis much :3

Attune, attune the piano had played.
His first crush, his first love resounding of farewell bade.
How could he do it, lie like a ******.
At first he pretended it was just a typo.

Lust became love
became understanding
became cunning.
From that cunning I was born, knight in white shining.

This process demoralized and impaled him on a spike.
The sociopath was here, and boy was he excited.
More love, more ***, more destruction and death.
Noone will be spared from the pain I'll inflict.

I'm a cure to your idiocy
No way are you this stupid!
I can't cure you even with cupid
So farewell and find another person whos stupid
Live stupidly ever after.
Calling my name.
I'm the greatest you'll remember.
I'm a hateful scoundrel that plays in ****** mud.

A calm. A feeling unlike others. A goddess in white. Slit wrists, slit arms, slit thighs. But can you read me?
"Yes."
The impact and embarressment Oh my! I never thought I'd meet me here!
But can you clamber in me with my shell?
"Yes."
That's when I when I became flustered.
I lie, I cheat, I steal, I hurt. I break into hearts and rip out the girth.
Why are you here.
Why am I here.
The two are connected, lets find out how.

Two became two then two became one.
Death at his doorstep and me in the cage.
Solemn and waiting and believing as a sage.
Waiting. Waiting. Doubting. Hating. I revert, I go back on reverting.
I revert over and over and back again. Just what am I?

I'm nothing.
I'm nothing without another. So 8 months pass.. and so comes another. Another liar
Another fighter
Another lover
Another.

I fake. I hurt. I steal. I ****.
And with that, My life summed up.
So recent.. It happened. A new reason to live. I only wish I could tear out my memories. I only wish those two dead people would be happy. I wish I had never been conceived out of pain. I am a tool to deal with this, a broken dismembered tool. They shouldn't be like me, I'm a one hit wonder. A lovestruck sociopath.