I sit here laying in my blood
Pouring down from
The cuts, I gave myself
My head resting on my shoulder
Feeling so heavy from the damage,
I gave myself,
Why are my limbs so weak
Elbow and my wrist stuck in place
My arm can’t from the ground
Not be able to move
You look at me in terror
And at a bloody white T-shirt
I wasn’t able to reach
Something that shouldn’t be asked
My smile feels so uncanny
All I wanted, was you
Was it too much they ask for?
To be treated like a porcelain boll
I’m too fragile I break like glass
Trust me if you flick me, I will crack
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Author:
Nerd (
Offline) - Published: August 11th, 2026 13:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Fränz Müller, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments5
A sad write of self destruction. Nicely expressed.
Thank you :3
You are most welcome
Life can break us and leave us with the unwelcome task of putting ourselves back together. Excellent write.
Self destruction in stages.
Cutting away life unfulfilled.
I'm sensing a man in the far distance past.
Hauntingly beautiful and vulnerable.
Nerd, this is incredibly heavy and vulnerable. Beneath the blood and brokenness, what hit me hardest is that longing simply to be wanted, cared for, and handled gently when everything inside feels fragile enough to shatter. That ache comes through powerfully, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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