The fire that ran through my veins
Was doused in an icy rain
The golden fire
That caused desire
And motivation
To do something worth doing
To live the life
Without the strife
Of pain and darkness
But without this
I fear I'll lose the feeling of living
So I slice open my skin
With blades of steel and an unforgiving-
Nature
In lateral lines
Like wrungs on a ladder
There are so many times
I've almost ascended to that cold harsh place-
death.
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Author:
onyxowl333 (
Offline) - Published: September 11th, 2016 12:17
- Category:
- Views: 11
- User favorite of this poem: Augustus.
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Comments2
WELCOME ONYXOWL (intriguing name ~ I have one I bought in Puebla) I am intrrigued by poems about self-harm and cutting and I have seen incidents (I am a College Councilor) where it did resemble a ladder. It is mostly Female students who "cut" and there are always "reasons" which can often be resolved. Despite the subject of your poem ~ quenched desire ~ self harm ~ longing for DEATH ~ the structure is elegant ! Beautifully spaced lines and pulsating with rhyme and rhythm ~ more please ~ Thanks for sharing what I trust is just a cri du coeur ! Yours BRIAN.
Can't say it any better than Briansodes.
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