I've never been one for a knife
Cutting never seemed my type
The fire is what called my name
And then I watched it burn
At first I would just sit and watch
But then I dragged my hand across
The pain was spreading through my skin
And then I felt it burn
The pain was always bittersweet
An escape from cruel reality
My mind was coming apart at the seams
And then I let it burn
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Author:
Naeners (
Offline) - Published: February 3rd, 2017 01:14
- Comment from author about the poem: This is a poem about when I used to self harm by burning myself. I hope you like it. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments1
Wonderfully written and expressed Great write. Sad to think you felt you had to do that to yourself.
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