I feel like a shattered vase—no hope, no faith.
My glass is in a million pieces,
And my blood is on the floor, running into the tile creases.
I have no reason to breathe, no reason to hope, no reason to be understood.
No one comes to mind as I take off the safety pin
And throw it on the couch before I take a gift
That only God above was able to give.
I hate to say it, I hate to even wonder about it,
but I have no doubt I will regret this choice in the end.
Since I’m beyond fixing and understanding,
I’m too weak for this life—
For this cruel world, everyone else seems to have hope in.
I really am unwanted.
And the glass and blood on the floor
Will be soaked up and thrown away,
Because no one ever cuts themselves to understand the pain.
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Author:
Violet_Writes (
Offline) - Published: February 13th, 2026 12:46
- Comment from author about the poem: This was a free write. I didn't really care about how it sounded; I just wanted to get my point across
- Category: Sad
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell
Offline)
Comments2
No coming back from this, this is like the final epitaph on top of the final epitaph.
People do come through this, but it takes time and a bit of forbearance.
This screams with pain and the need to feel it. Yes others do this and it is sad. A dark poem
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