All the blood spilled
To check if we still feel
All the pain felt
To tell if it's all real
A downwards spiral towards madness
No hope at all
No one to save us when we fall
To my scars of self abuse
I gaze upon in wonder
If done for destraction from my blues
Then why do I still sit and ponder
From my scars,from my self hate
I learn escape,and that it's never too late
Life will never be
designed just for me.
It's so unjust,
sin of lust,
but never will I go
to the place below
unless you're coming, too.
If not,
screw you.
Now that my hearts been broke,my mind left in a spell
I find myself at Satans door,greeted by the hounds of hell
I try and try to elude their wit
But these dogs keep tracking me down
Now I know why the Blues is Satans music
It's practioners hellbound
It's always in the back of my mind
How many ways to hurt can I find?
It's become somewhat of a game
To hurt so bad I forget my own name
The pain calms me,
It lets me be free.
Oh god, there's so much wrong with me.
My belief in god has been shattered
From the pain love holds
My heart left torn and tattered
My mind all fucked and scattered
Like someone left to die beat'n and battered
- Authors: Ajax (Pseudonym), W.J.G.🕊, Screaming goat
- Visible: All lines
- Finished: January 22nd, 2022 01:10
- Limit: 8 stanzas
- Invited: Public (any user can participate)
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about self-harm experiences, feel free to contribute!
- Category: Sad
- Views: 65
Comments3
Thanks for contributing everyone!
so very moving . great penning
thank you
It was a pleasure DM24🤗🌹🕊
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