Cut deeper and deeper,
til' your emotions revealed,
cut deeper and deeper,
And your arms, never healed
Cut deeper and deeper til' the bad fades away,
you tell yourself you'll stop,
one day ... one day
The guilt fill after the happiness dims,
Like a tidal wave breaking over you; the happiness just the brim
The blood meanders down your defenceless arm,
Thus telling your body,
Be at a calm
It drizzles down your wrists,
And into your palms
Oh the burning pain and desire,
To re-kindle that self harm fire
But we mustn't
We must not give in,
But self harm, is it that much of a sin?
You patch yourself up,
That's when the guilt settles in,
You see the blood
On the desk, the chair
It settles in
Your soul, your sin
You pick up the blood stained tissue,
It's flinged to the bin
You hear footsteps on the landing,
Some one coming in!
You brush away the tears,
Pull your long sleeves down
You turn around and see them there
Staring at you; looking down
They send you to a Clinic
They give you a leaflet
You bin it
They say they want to help you,
They say you need it,
But what the hell do they know?!
But your mother says:
"You HAVE to go!"
Dressed all in black
You give them a look
That says "please, cut me some slack".
They bring you in,
And sit you down
Watching your every move
Scribbling it all down
They make you feel unwanted,
They make you feel alone,
They make you the hand with out the glove
The dog, without the bone.
They make you into a charity case,
They say "we feel it to"
But no they don't,
cause there's emotions...
At last it's over,
And your mum has a quick chat,
You look down at yourself in disgust
And say "I'm fat"
Next thing you know you're in the car, going home
Hoping that your "problem" from here on, will be left alone
You sit at home by the phone,
Waiting for that someone who said they'd call,
You feel a crash and a fall,
Tears start to brim in your eyes,
As you run up to your room,
Run up to the happiness, and away from the gloom
You swing open the door, and burst into tears,
As your little blue box with flowers nears.
You flip up the lid of your box, and horror strikes
The pencil sharpener
Soon your premeditated happiness fades
You tear into the en-suite to look what is there,
In the way of sharp objects, the bathroom is bare
Next stop, your mothers room,
Just past the stairs,
You open the door,
Stand there and stare,
A pale razor on the dressing table
It longed to cut,
... Lived for more
You had me captivated to read on at the first line - Cut deeper' My body tingled with horror and by trhe end I was almost in tears.
I remember self harming before the age of ten. I remember feeling so angry, helpless and out of control. Hurting myself seemed to release/ relieve my pent up frustrations.
Wow. I gave up cutting tonight. I helped myself and I got rid of everything. But that doesn't mean i'll never lose my mind and do it again. I liked the poem a lot. Its quite similar to a book I read the other day called Cut.
Thought I might leave a comment, just so you have it in writing and, despite that, I'm too lazy to vote right now, though I will rate it in the comment for evaluation purposes, etc.
You might want to work on your grammar and spelling [amongst many other things]. Also, youâ€™re stanzas are inconsistent and the poemâ€™s structure isnâ€™t sound. But other than that it was great effort.