It's just that
when I put the sharp tip
of the razor's blade
into my skin
and slice through my flesh
I feel the way the white hot pain
that radiates all the way through me
makes me feel alive and real
for once
It's just that
when I carve lines of blame
into my inner leg
I repent for everything you want me to be
but am not
It's just that
I think that maybe
If I cut deep enough
I'll find the shattered pieces
of the lost self
I used to know
buried deep with in all my baggy clothes
That's why yesterday I cut again
That's why it hurt so bad when you
yelled again and told me to stop
trying to commit suicide
in your house
under your roof
That's why yesterday I wanted to cry again
because you just don't get it
I don't want to die
cutting is the way I survive
cutting is the reason I'm still alive
Author notes
I chose the wordbank option and used the words:
cut, blade, suicide, radiates, yesterday, lost, shattered, razor, pain, deep
A contest entry
- I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real... by Avalanche.Echo.
450 points, ended December 8, 2007, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
i think this is amazing! very well written
-
I understand this completely. It was really nicely written, and you capture it so well.
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Wow...I really liked this poem. I don't know if you actually cut, but that's exactly what I feel when I did, I guess.
Even better, the parallelism is really good, and the raw emotion is there without being too explicit. The almost stream-of-consciousness flow adds to the effect of depression.
This definitely deserves applause.
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