Suicidal Blood

Blood licked my arm as I let it free.
It kissed the rock in my hand
because it loved the rock for letting
it go, it looked at me and smiled at me.

I nodded at my own blood, I watched
it going back into my arm.
I looked at my friend, I growled at him.
"Freak!" He growled back.

I know he won't bother me
but that's ok, because I have a new friend
this blood that flowed beneath my skin.

This friend, made everything alright.
It acts like a good friend,
when I'm on a verge of suicide
it calmed me down.

It always calm me down
when the doctors and my "friends
and families alike cradling me
saying I will be fixed.

"I don't want to be fixed!"
I growled.
"Me being fixed means no more
friend!" I kept growling.

They all looked at me in sadness
the police took me away into a mental hospital
I cried, because they took my rock away.

But then, I didn't worry
because they still haven't taken away
my fingernails, I used it to slice my friend
out of my arm to sooth me.

Author's Note

Needed a break from my novel, and it's been... a while since I've wrote a poem. So here it is!

Reviews

[DeliriousCerises]

I really liked this. You've done a great job at personifying the blood, making cutting something other than a cry for attention. Truly an addiction, a need, a want. My favorite line "I don't want to be fixed" it's not the most poetic line, but it rings so true to so many people mentally ill, they don't think anything is wrong, they don't want to change. Great write.

[Perfect Mistake]

Ah this is very well written and i like this :) tells a story of someones release to happiness even though to others its a horrible habit. Good work

[Sleeping Maiden]

Wow. I like it.. quite an interesting perspective..
Well written and i love how it tells a short story here..
I loved you poem! Well done!