Phantom pain

Folder: 
Self-Harm

Seems like so long ago that I turned from a poisoned paradise,
since I felt the nirvana, the euphoria I'll never forget.

Every time I think I'm passed it,
someone starts to bleed,
and like the fool I am,
I try my best to stop the flow.

Giving advice the best way I know how,
should practice what I preach,
if only it were that easy.

Only he knows the true fear deep inside,
only he knows just how much I bleed internally.

When he's gone the darkness closes in,
I recognize the familiar sound of shadows,
welcoming me to the only home I've ever known.

Without him around the light seems out of reach,
my wrists start to sting, the phantom pain returns to taunt me again.

My dreams are filled with death,
rape and sacrifice, will I wake gasping this time?

I feel like I have wings, as delusional as that seems,
they cry from the memory of agony.

I'm aware that something isn't quite right,
bi-polar, possibly insane,
I've learned to acknowledge who I am.

How can I express that I miss the feel of it,
miss seeing the result of what I can't explain.

The familiar crutch, sweet escape,
bliss in a razorblade.

I wish I knew how to stay in the light,
but without him I'm banished,
the shadows are my only friends.

The eternal wanderer, heart that once was ice,
it only beats for him, but it doesn't bleed.

I feel myself pulling away,
deeper into my solitude and despair,
as always before I get too far,
I hear his voice, cherish his call.

He's my angel in the dark,
finds me when I've been lost too long,
he's pieced me back together again,
heard me when I screamed without sound.

Still sometimes I can't ignore the tugging at my soul,
trying so hard to drag me under, into fire and torment,
I don't want to go.

Some day I'm afraid I'll wake to find this all a dream,
that my wrists are still bleeding,
hands that are touching me, making me dirty,
that I'll feel the unmistakable touch of a gun,
hearing again whispered grunts and moans.

Some day I fear I won't wake from the nightmares,
that the death and sacrifice will be my own,
that one day I'll choose my pain over him.

Some days its too much to hold my head high,
some days I'm no more than an animal inside,
trapped in a cage, snarling at anyone who comes too near.

Some days I look down, expecting to see the blood,
instead my knuckles are white,
trying too hard to hold on, trying to fight.

I'm too stubborn to give in,
I'm laughing inside, the demons are no match for me,
I'm too proud to hide.

Ignoring the ache, refuse to see the mirage,
closing my eyes, taking a breath,
nothing can beat me, not when I'm relying on my strength.

View clutchforbalance's Full Portfolio