To the weak it may cause, a bit of alarm.
When I stick the needles into my arm.
I pull them out, to some degree.
Anymore tugging, my blood will run free.
It only hurts for the first little bit.
At the rate I am going, I will never quit.
I push them back in, they go through my vein.
The exertion I'm using is causing me pain.
Pushing up through my skin, the needles go through
I think this is how I'll remember you.
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Written November 8th, 2004
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Comments
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Well... this piece definately is an interesting way of self mutilation... never heard of the needless before. I'm such a belonephobic... I hate needless. So I give you some credit for being able to do something like that. Great poem. I really liked it. Take care.
~Cherie -
whats up Scott! i like what Blak Lace said! of coarse I like your poem and the other one too. yep your a good write and I am glad you started writing..can you tell-i'm bored. well see you monday!!
-nicci -
Do you know how many people suffer, and can never show it, much less right about it. I'm first to admit I am old. You young people, have what I think, is a healthy way of showing the pain you are in. Some of us hide it so well, that all around us think everything is fine. Our death may not come from a physical abuse, but the emotional abuse, kills us slowly from the inside.
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