dpressedone89 Posted July 10, 2005 Share Posted July 10, 2005 my words are like blood drops hurt me and watch them spill out they hit the ground and form puddles puddles of emotion too deep to escape fall down the spiral staircase and i drown drown alone in a river of words words that convey emotions i myself cannot understand they form lines and verses of self hatred which leave a brazen mark for all to see but none to know they see it as a cry for help but i ask not help, it is merely my attempt to help myself if i dont help me no one will no one can im in too deep those who try to help just fall in with me i watch helplessly as teardrops fall to the paper and i drown in sorrow my life preserver is a concrete brick the one thing that helps only makes it so much worse so i ride this river of blood over a waterfall of tears and ride useless self hating emotions over lines and verses stanzas and chorus echoing my torment as release that only reminds me what is my savior is also my executioner pen leads to razor leads to pen the endless cycle of sorrow shall never end -stitches oppinions Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ForAnother Posted July 10, 2005 Share Posted July 10, 2005 Something interesting I found... most people that cut themselves, don't only like the pain, but they love the blood spill onto the ground. Everyone talks of the puddles and some see things in the puddles. I find it an interesting facination with cutters. Perhaps what is happening pain wise isn't as important as what people will see in the bathroom (if they walked in). If someone walked in the puddles would be an "amount" of pain the person is in... more blood more pain. Cutters also could be caught, and puddles can't be wiped away or hidden quickly like a cut on the wrist. I just find it an interesting parallel. Nice poem btw. ForAnother Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dpressedone89 Posted July 10, 2005 Author Share Posted July 10, 2005 i never noticed that before, thats interesting i think the reason that is is because being able to see their pain kind of rationalizes it. i dont think of it that way though i think of blood in a way i cant really put into words thanks for reading it. -stitches Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
petalbud Posted July 11, 2005 Share Posted July 11, 2005 i pen leads to razor leads to pen .. I luv that line...Well written poem, echoes the cycle of sorrow youre writing about . Yer, and i do understand the fasciantaion with the blood puddles-- its like a physical expression of the pain held inside. Keep up the good work and thnx for replying to my poem. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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