Afraid to be touched
Desperate to be held
Scared to reach out
But needing to feel…
I like this pain
The stab, the burn, the acid that leaps when I take a wrong turn
I want this pain
The will, the bite, the taste in my mouth that makes me feel it’s alright
I need this pain
The hunger, the blood, the bile that proves I’m made from more than just mud
I starve
My body
My stomach
My desires
I cut
My wrist
My arm
My skin
I puke
My food
My drink
My emptiness
These sins are mine
I hold them close
Can’t be shared
Can’t be told
Comments
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very strong emotional write
to cut yourself, I can't say I understand that
my God I was picturing my daughter doing this and I felt a heaviness in my chest
you've written wonderfully
every moment is new
brand new
to do with what we please
we can embrace it or we can hate it is our chioce
all of experience through a life time so much pain entwined with happiness
each experience creates us, so this is purpose this is how we grow
we don't hold onto pain we leave it behind us so we can embrace a new moment.
as far as I know these are not sins
these are expression of sadness
you young lady are not mud
you are poet
you are precious
you are loved
I sorry if I'm get all motherly
God bless you my friend...
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Oh my
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