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poems about me, my life, and nothing else.
Tainted blood runs through my veins
embedded under the skin
I look down at the valley of scars
thin, darkened lines
with my Razor in hand
my false salvation
I worship the sharp edge
and feel blessed
when it sinks into my flesh
The pain is only temporary
as it starts to feel heavenly
ripping it down
and watching the thick sacrifice of blood
well up like a fountain
and slide across my skin
moving quick and unsteady
like little rivers unsure of where to go
I catch a glimpse of this girl in the mirror
her eyes surrounded in black
purple blossoms around her neck
so many bruises flowing across her skin
and an uncaring expression on her face
burning deep in her eyes
showing like lit embers
bright with the rage and spiteful emotions
I look at this reflection
thinking, What A Pathetic Sight!
my ribs are protruding
from a thin layer of skin
my hip bones are sharp
my hair is thin and falling out
my skin an unhealthy yellow
with that Razor still buried in my wrist
I choke on these words;
What Happened?

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  • [03/18/12 03:06am]
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