cutting selfinjury calm triggering

Her Eternal Clock

Folder: 
Poems

Look alive
Dead inside
As messages flow
And her heart blows
She'll do some drugs
And chug till drunk
Get roughed up
While everybody just shrugs
Texts come and go
And numbers are blocked
Her hands are locked
Tears won't stop
Won't turn to her best friend
About the problem
Instead, she turns to the blade in hand
Can't rein it in
Can't turn the internet off
Can't throw her phone in the river
That would tip her parents off
And one day, she cuts too deep
The crimson flows
Like her wrist is just so steep
It won't stop
But…what about her little sister?
How many nightmares will she spend?
When she finds out her older sister
Decided that life needs to end
What about her parents…?
How will they perceive
That their oldest child is dead
Her diploma she will never receive
And what about her friends…?
Why couldn’t they tell she'd been pretending to be fine?
They'd never bothered to even ask
But they should have been her shoulder to cry on
She cries and sobs
Much more than before
Life or Death?
At this, she is torn
Time is running out quick
Her eternal clock
Coming upon its last tick
And now…its stopped

Sleeping Pill

Folder: 
Feelings

It's like a sleeping pill

I press the small knife to my skin

I feel a wash of calm

I'm no longer jittery

I'm no longer anxious

I close my eyes

Listen to the music play

As I feel the pain

I don't bleed, but my skin turns red

You won't even see it

But I'll still feel it

I feel the calm

It's like a sleeping pill

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I really don't know why I went crazy with the pain the night I wrote this poem, if it was the music or what. Or something else. So yeah... thats about it.

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