This was my very first poem that I wrote when I was 15. My ex- teacher saw my scars and asked me a lot of questions. I was send to counseling for 2 years. It sucks, Im not gonna lie. I was so pissed with her. But when I looked back, I kinda thankful for her because if not for her, I don't know if Im still alive now. I don't like thinking about my past because it hurts. My scars are permanent and its visible. Its a constant reminded of my life, until the day I die. Yes, I do take a pic of me cutting. Im in no way an attention seeker. If I could help someone who is a suicidal, I would go all out to help them, coz I know how hard it is.
(P/S: All of this are about 7 years ago. Ive been clean for about 3 years plus, so no, Im not cutting now.)
Once again I take my blade,
And commit my bloody sin,
Completing crimson lines,
Against my flawless skin.
Tears seep from my eyes,
And fall down into my soul,
But I continue causing pain,
Until I eventually feel whole.
I lay on the floor bleeding,
Cradling my crimson arm,
Even though Ive done it before,
Im stunned at my act of harm.
Pain rocks through my body,
Crimson Tears ..
As I wash away the blood,
I feel no better then I did before,
Im still all cold and grey.
I look deep into the mirror,
And stares right through my eyes,
I can see beyond myself,
Pass my make-up disguise.
I can see the hurt and the pain,
And my frightening tears,
I can see my blood stained arm,
My own crimson tears.
I can see my pale reflection,
And the blackened eyes,
They all think Im fine right now,
But they cant see behind the lines.
And so I lay myself to sleep,
And wish the pain away,
I close my eyes and falls asleep,
While dreaming of a better days.
But that day never arrives,
Im always alone and filled with hate,
This is my destiny right here,
My life, My soul, My fate.
Written By: Ronnie Shay
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