It consumes me from time to time,
This expired bad habit of mine.
It traces my thoughts constantly, almost non stop,
like im in a play, just another prop.
it gets so hard that i cant shake it loose,
all my problems combined taunting me,
theyre in front of my face hanging as a noose.
i cant do it, i wont let myself,
i know i should talk to someone,
maybe get some help.
i look away,
try to get my mind to stray.
i promised i wouldnt cut again,
but im slipping back into then.
it hurts more than anything now,
i have to stop myself but i dont know how.
it isnt the piercing blade of the knife,
yet all the scars in my life.
from the sharpening on my wrist,
to the drywall stuck in my fist.
i cant do it.
my weapon thrown to the side.
now all i can sit here and do,
is cry through bloody eyes.
This is a really good poem. It is easy to understand the narrator's pain and helplessness, how miserable the person is. My favorite line is 'i promised i wouldnt cut again,
but im slipping back into then.' It's catch and dark, I don't know how to explain it. Really good though ;)