Cutting

Daily Routine

I sing as the blade parts my flesh.

Why am I doing this?

Been longing for this pain; don’t know what I gain but I love it.

Please stop.

So memorizing and erotic, stimulating and euphoric. The tingle is tantalizing – it makes me quiver and my spine shutter.

Last time.

Keeps me from shooting myself. I don’t know how to escape the nightmare that living has become.

God I need help.

 

 

 

 

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Rival

I once knew a girl who wished to be free.
She dreamed of ending her life.
How she became this way no one could foresee.
Cuts in her skin from her fathers knife.

Everyone said live life to the fullest dear.
But her life she didn't love.
Hold on they say it'll be better next year.
Next year came around and her life she still wished to dispose of.

Day and night on her bed she would lay down.
Staring out her window at the waves in which she wanted to drown.
Many tears would fall from her eyes, but she did not make a sound.
She fought for survival with her mind as her own rival.

Broken Mask

I broke my mask,
It fell, chipped and cracked,
So I threw it against the wall,
Just to break it a little more.

 

I watched in crumble under overwhelmed hands,
Slamming it into the floor breaking so easy,
While my blood flowed hot with anger,
Emotions bottled up broke free.

 

And I did something I hadn't done in years,
Trickles of red down my leg,
They'll scar,
But it I hardly feel it.

 

It didn't help,
Just took the edge off,
I still feel my emotional instability,
I need to calm down,
But all I want to do is hurt and cry and shout.

 

My mind cycles back and it hurts,
So much hurts,
But feels like nothing at all,
It's just too much.

 

No one knows but you,
And you,
And you,
But even you don't really know,
So what's the harm.

 

Thank you.

 

I do want to say something,
Give those I talk to a hint,
let them know I'm not okay,
but I don't want questions,
I wont want pity or worry.

 

The only one that would understand,
That would show theirs to compare,
Is unreachable.

 

These are going to scar,
But it's easy to explain away,
Or they'll fade to nothing,
Like the others...

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Sorry, this is a bit of a mess, but I'm a bit of a mess right now.

Can you tell I'm venting?

 

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What Happened To That Little Girl? -TITLE HELP NEEDED-

Folder: 
Depression/sadness

I was a happy little girl.

 

I wore poofy dresses,

and spun in them happily.

 

I ran around and played 

with both boys and girls.

 

I was a bit of a tomboy,

didn't mind getting dirty.

 

 

I ate apples instead of candy.

 

I climbed on anything

that I possibly could!

Alone with somethings that

no one though that I could!

 

 

I was such a happy little girl!

 

I smiled all the time,

I laughed at so many things,

I did just about anything!

 

I talked to strangers,

made friends in the blink of an eye!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Work in progress!

 

Help with title is needed and will be greatly appreciated! 

Can't Stop???? -Title help needed!!-

Folder: 
Depression/sadness

It started so innocently...

 

Just 3 small, 

small cuts,

placed carefully upon 

my left wrist.

 

And I figured it would

just be that once.

 

But I was wrong.

 

 

That was almost 5 weeks ago,

and I have kept going.

 

Gone a couple days

without making a mark,

 

but then I'm back again,

somehow...

 

Somehow I've gotten a blade

back into my hand,


I have cuts in places that

I would never have thought

I would ever have a cut!


I cut here,

then I cut there.



I don't cut deep,

I stay on the surface, 

too scared to go deeper,

and, frankly, I don't need to yet!



Oh what have i done?

Why did I do this?

Now... I don't know how to stop!

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Picking Where To Make My Art??

Folder: 
Depression/sadness

Picking a spot on my body

to make my cuts today.

 

There are so many 

places I can choose from,

so many places that I've already cut on.

 

 

Maybe I'll cut on my hand,

maybe on my palm.

 

Maybe on my wrist,

maybe on my arm.

 

Maybe on my stomach,

maybe on my waistline.

 

Maybe on my thigh,

maybe on my legs.

 

Maybe on my ankle, 

maybe on the insides of my thighs....

 

Maybe where my underwear can cover,

 

hell, It's not like I haven't cut there before...

 

 

There are so many places

on my body

that I can take a blade to

and draw my art.

 

One cut here,

another cut there...

 

maybe a big one here,

and a small one there.

 

Cut, cut, cut, cut

my head screams to me,

my hands beg of me,

my blade calls to me.

 

 

I'm picking a place on 

my body,

a spot to make a new cut,

a new piece of art...

 

Where will I pick today?

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The Title is a rough draft... I'm not totally sure about it... Any ideas would be much appreciated!

 

Let me know what you think about it!

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This Cutting

Folder: 
Depression/sadness

I know what I'm doing

is seen as very wrong,

but there's something

about it that draws me in....

 

The feeling of pain

when i touch the blade

against my skin,

 

the sight of the blood

popping up to the surface

as i drag the blade,

 

the sensation of both

panic and calm,

mixing together

in my mind.

 

 

I know I shouldn't

do this,

but I actually like it

 

The way my skin heals

and then leaves a scar behind,

to remind me:

 

I'm still here,

I'm still alive,

I still bleed,

I still heal.

 

I'm not gone,

I'm not dead,

I'm not bloodless,

I'm not unfixable....

 

 

This cutting 

makes me feel again...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is not fictional.... it's how I actually feel.. Please let me know what you think, or how you think i can improve it.

You Give In

Folder: 
Depression/sadness

It happens when

 

you're all alone....

 

 

 

No one answering your calls

 

No one answering your texts

 

No one there for you...

 

 

 

 

 

That's when you look over,

 

and you see your blade.

 

 

 

That faithful friend...

 

 

 

 

 

That friend who's always there

 

when no one else is around.

 

 

 

 

 

That friend that 

 

can bring you comfort,

 

bring you freedom,

 

make you.... 

 

 

 

alive.

 

 

 

 

 

You don't dare 

 

tell others that 

 

this is how you feel...

 

 

 

That, even though it's wrong,

 

you actually....

 

enjoy the blade.

 

 

 

You keep that inside, 

 

it's your little secret. 

 

 

 

 

 

You slowly reach out,

 

knowing you shouldn't

 

 

 

but you're done resisting,

 

and ready for that comfort. 

 

 

 

 

 

So that's when you 

 

go ahead,

 

 

 

you hold it in your hand, 

 

feeling the familiarity of it.

 

You place it to your skin,

you press it down,

you pull on it,

you drag it across your skin.

 

You give in and let it win.

 

You cut.....

You give in.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Let me know what you think, or whether you think there's a better title for it, or really anything!

 

Please!

I'm Broken

I put the razor up to my arm
I've been silently screaming
Why has no one heard the alarm?
There are tears streaming
Covering my cheek
All I want is for someone to pay attention
And to see that I am weak
Someone please break this tension
I am slowly slipping away
I will never be found
Care for me in every way
Or you will find me in the ground