Hide the blade
Beneath the clothes,
Run to be alone
In the silence
Where only the blade remains.
Cut before you change your mind
Let the adrenaline run
You've done it
The relief is uncontrollable.
Blood, beading along the lines
They fall down your face
The pressure is gone,
But what remains is guilt
All that effort,
To find pleasure from this pain.
Who can help you?
Your boyfriend thinks you're selfish.
Your family thinks it's attention seeking.
Your sister, your dear sweet sister,
She cares too much it would kill her.
Who can help you now?
But I have relapsed. Everything here is true. No exaggeration, nothing hidden.
So, Hello, I guess.
Hell has returned.
Lani, ASuicidalPoet xo
I just wanted to tell you, your poem really touched me.
"The pressure is gone,
But what remains is guilt" aw, yes, I think it's so true. I think it's not really worth it after all but I get it's still hard to resist.
No difficult structure or fancy rhyme scheme, it's just exactly what you want to say and more between the lines. I like that.
Thank you for sharing with us.
If you ever do break, don't punish yourself for that moment. Celebrate how long it's taken before you needed it. And make every break further away than the last. Every day you DON'T do it is a blessing, not the other way around. So be proud of every day. Even the days you do for the spaces between. I won't lie and say you'll never want to - like I said, 7 years and my brain still jumps to that as a defence mechanism. But it gets easier with time, and you get stronger.
...I'm sorry. It's been like this for too long. Telling myself I'm okay, throwing my blades as far into the woods as I can...
And then buying new ones.
Selfish, indeed. I swear they don't even try to understand. That is, except the people who are almost as close to the edge as you.
Do you love your sister a lot, think about her and how she would feel. read these: sammyxfreak.deviantart.com/art…
I hope you keep fighting it. Things will be better eventually, but you just have to have hope that they. you are in a hole so deep, that you can't see light, but just know that it is there and you will one day be in. cutting makes it worst, trust me on that. what got me to stop in when I was with my little brother and he looked at my arms that were covered with deep marks, because I used to use a knife instead of a raiser, and he started crying and asked me what happened, why was sissy hurt. it put things in perspective.