Drip
Drop
Drip
Drop
The blood doesn’t stop,
Drip
Drop
Drip
Drop
I’m bleeding quite a lot,
It’s funny how the blade is familiar than my mother’s arms,
And I only feel at peace when I committing self harm,
Though I’m close to death it brings me no alarm,
Just the sound of it has a certain charm,
Some would think it hurts with the cuts on my arms and the pulsating wrists,
But the painful agony has such a sweet bliss,
So I carve myself once more, and artist hard at work,
Just like they’ll carve my grave stone when I’m deep within the dirt..
Drip..
Drop...
Drip..
Drop...
Drip.
Drop.
- Author: Reyas (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: August 22nd, 2018 06:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
Comments3
Hope you are okay?
Great poem giving insight into the feelings people have when they self harm
Yes, hope it isn't referring to yourself. Come here (you or whoever it is) and have my hugs, or a mother's hugs instead. Much better!
Thank you for sharing
I wish I had more words
But you've reflected a feeling
That I'd happily sit and bleed out first
Much love and respect
May we pen till our hearts burst
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