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Literature Text
I see the crimson
river, flowing from
my veins.
My lifeblood, draining
out of my cursèd
body.
The pain is
nothing new.
There is too
much other pain
for me.
The knife slides
easily over my wrist,
slicing open the
fragile barrier.
They look on
horrified that I
could do this.
But they do not
understand
as I sigh with relief
and pleasure.
This pain, this
raw, bodily pain,
numbs the hurts inside.
When I feel the pain,
I can deal with the
world, again.
river, flowing from
my veins.
My lifeblood, draining
out of my cursèd
body.
The pain is
nothing new.
There is too
much other pain
for me.
The knife slides
easily over my wrist,
slicing open the
fragile barrier.
They look on
horrified that I
could do this.
But they do not
understand
as I sigh with relief
and pleasure.
This pain, this
raw, bodily pain,
numbs the hurts inside.
When I feel the pain,
I can deal with the
world, again.
Literature
Cut Yourself?
Cut yourself for the hell of it?
Feels really good from that nice slit?
Feels good cutting all over your body?
Does it feel great being really naughty?
Cut Cut Cut
Arm Arm Arm
Makes you feel warm warm warm
Cut Cut Cut
Hand Hand Hand
This is where you stand stand stand
Does it feel good to be a cutter?
Dont it feel like your melting like butter?
Do these nice little cuts bleed the pain away?
Do these cuts help you to live another day?
Cut Cut Cut
Arm Arm Arm
Makes you feel warm warm warm
Cut Cut Cut
Hand Hand Hand
This is where you stand stand stand
You take your chance and roll the dice and what comes up is poke, cut, sl
Literature
CUT
You look for an escape
but there's nowhere to hide.
You need to get away
from this feeling inside.
The madness around you
has penetrated your soul.
You cry out. You long for
your times of old.
You need something
to end this misery.
You see the blade.
You need to bleed.
You hold it in your hand.
Just one single blow
can end it all now.
You decide to go.
You feel the sharp slice
accross your vein.
You see the blood
but you don't feel pain.
You find the happiness
that you once loved,
but you can never grasp it
once you've been
CUT
Literature
Cut
Raise the blade to my wrist
Clench my hand into a fist
Cool metal against my flesh
I can't be like the rest
Slice my skin, feel no pain
I can never be the same
Blood dripping down my arm
I can only cause harm
Tears streaming from my eyes
Nobody is able to hear my cries
Self-hatred sinks into my heart
Ripping myself apart
Hearing nothing, nothing at all
Just the thump as I fall
Smell the scent of my own fear
Nothing is as it appears
Open mouth, but no sound
My own voice, I haven't found
Touch my blood, I feel cold
Wondering why I haven't told
Taste my blood, metallic flavor
Something I will always savor
Never again shall
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I've never cut myself, BTW. "I" in the poem is not me.
I've never cut myself, BTW. "I" in the poem is not me.
© 2007 - 2024 Einradbin22
Comments13
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Since you never did it yourself, I can give you some insight about the subject: people who do that feel extremely sad and numb as they have to deal with a lot of emotional pain and sorrow for various reasons (love matters, acceptance,...). They want some relief, they want to stop thinking for a moment and just feel something else. Feel alive, feel a rush. And the scars it leaves are a reflection of the ones in their minds.