Knife breaks through skin;
skin bleeds tears,
heart bares sin,
inner demon cheers.
Another cut to the skin
scars lasts for years.
Depression wins,
overwhelming fears.
My skin birth twins;
they bleed tears
forlorn within
screaming fears.
My demons grin;
none certainly cares;
past holds sins;
scars bare years.
...
The mind takes no more
My heart enraged and in pain.
A never-ending cycle
that haunts me
throughout the days
and eats away
the very essence
of my soul.
-
Author:
Anasyil (
Offline) - Published: August 1st, 2018 20:31
- Comment from author about the poem: I had a history of depression and self-harm. Though I have improved, my scars are constant reminders of my mistakes. I had so many negative thoughts running through my head, I felt myself losing my sanity. I was falling apart. I felt lifeless. I felt as if my soul has left me. It was one of the darkest moments of my life. I eventually broke free from the chains of my depression. However, the scars on my arms still remain after all these years. I am no longer ashamed of them.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 33
Offline)
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