black and white becomes
gray, as the sun slides down
around my ankles,
with the rest of me burning
and breaking into pieces.
call me rome.
and these scars are skipping between
fingertips, these silver edges
slipping in between skin,
the kind i always promised would be
pale, the kind that bleeds black tar
when i thought i'd feel
blood.
the truth is, darling,
i don't know how to escape,
and when the sun is hiding
behind its shadow,
it knows i'm coming,
the black widow who hasn't killed
her (former) lover yet.
instead, he killed me.
at least every night, the time
when i'm afraid to close my eyes,
or at least when these cells split apart
from bare air and broken glass.
Author notes
i tried to make it not whiny or boring, like you asked. 
if you can't guess it's about cutting, that's a bad sign.
A contest entry
- your black & white needs a little bit of red... by Immortal Obscurity.
1750 points, ended November 26, 2008, 16 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
mmm.
Comments
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I gathered
This is beautiful and haunting, such amazing words from your talented pen! You have written with a wisdom and maturity beyond your fifteen years, though it sadden me that so many people feel the need to hurt themselves this way; understandably, though, physical pain is tangible and a lot easier to relate to than some phantom force that eats one alive from the inside. Hopefully, there is nothing too personal here.
Talk about cutting-edge... I do see some sort of shiny trophy in the works for you. Welcome to the finalists' list and thank you so much for entering
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First stanza is my favourite. But the rest is absolutely gorgeous. Didn't seem cliche to me at all, and yes I did understand what you were talking about. YAY! You accomplished everything for the contest lol. Good luck; you better place high
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