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Scars remain as faded memories of a time where wrists where painted red and thoughts where painted black. I am the artist of my own demise, a portrait of my life drawn onto my wrists in blood red.
This is me, It was my decision, Ugly, freak, emo, This is me, And these are my scars. No-one understands them, Not even my closest friends, I've been discarded, All because of, My scars.
Mirror mirror on the wall, I want to be pretty, skinny and tall. Mirror mirror if I change my hair, Maybe someone might start to care.
I use to cut. Thats a fact. I use to cut while watching fear net. Hell, i even remember cutting. While, watching the horror movie cutting class. It never hurt. I thought it felt good.
Dedicated to @spikekutter Feeling of cold, & hard Sharp-edge in my hand, Against my wrist Oh, how good it felt I love the feeling The feeling of Pleasure I get from cutting Pain I get from...
How are you feeling. A very simple question, To which many can't answer, With an honest confession. You truly wish to know, How I feel inside, To know my thoughts, And the feelings I hide.
#disabilityaware #colourchallenge In Green I see the colour of life so beautiful, and me within, at the end of a rainbow, hidden, unseen.
I made a mess of myself again, (Regret, shame, regret) It doesn't help; pain never eases pain, (Regret, shame, regret) It takes me ever further away, (Freak, loser, freak) I'll deal with my problems...
How sad it is, that top of the day Is a mismatched 'quote' about cutting This is not the only way.
I don’t think this ever stops. I think it takes control ever so slowly without you even noticing. Eventually, you’re caught up in this mess and it’s terrifying. You try to escape, but it’s too late.
#SimplyPerfection10Days. drip, drop. the blood pours out. plip, plop,. you're filled with doubt. your knife lies bloodied. your skin's stained red. your wrists sit slit. you might as well be dead.
beat myself up too bad I can't get up there's one solution glass bottle been sitting in my closet aging waiting I want to drink it drown into bitterness help me escape I hate my life my life is...
Hi guys. So recently you may or may not have noticed that I haven't posted for a while.. Well the truth behind it is that I've been ill, erm mentally ill.
she worried about her weight she worried about her date she wondered how long here she'd stay she was curious about when things would finally be okay she starved herself daily she cried herself to...
Fires ablaze within my eyes, A smile concealing all my lies, Screaming, begging, calling out, A final, frantic, desperate, shout.
It's like drowning. Always drowning. The water fills your lungs, And threatens to pull you under. You'd have to be depressed to understand.
Was goin' through my old writing, and found another one similar to So I Cut but this was at age 14 #cut #cutters #lost #lonely #FML #invisible. ------------------------.
She is too happy to be this sad. Too young to know her pain. Too fragile to be this hurt. But still, she remains. I watch her as she hides it away,. Puts on her fake smile.
Tracing over long healed scars. Cuts unnoticed. Below radars. Hickeys from my one true love. My razorblades. What pain is made of. Memories of scarlet tears. That blur confusion. Dilute my fears.
I'm fine. I would even go as far as to say I'm happy. Until it gets dark. Until you're gone in your own bed somewhere far away floating through unconsciousness.
Can anyone make sense of me right now. The whole world is spinning, my head is spinning, my thoughts are spinning. I can't get my bearings. Sometimes I get these brilliant thoughts.
Wow, I did a lot of digging and found old paper where I wrote this poem when I was about 9 or 10 years old. #death #cutter. ---------------------------. A beating heart. A heart that beats.
Terror flooded the streets. Her knees buckled, and to the cold, hard ground she fell. She couldn't take it anymore. She was living in a mad, sick world that only judged and hurt her.
A free verse I wrote a while back. I also adapted it into a poem. Critique is encouraged ^.^ ____________________ I run your sharp kiss across my wrist. Should I give in. You call to me.