Crimson tears

I sit here on this dark winters night
and tremor as I become more engulfed in my fright
a tear streaks my cheek
and I scream for the release I seek
rocking back and forth, I feel the cold tiles on my bare skin
and I no I haven’t enough strength within
I no any moment ill grab the silver blessing
and it will be my skin the knifes caressing
coming back to sad reality I look at the scars on my arm
each and every person that caused those marks meant no harm
I guess its me to blame
but I feel no shame
for every time I pretended I was fine
then went home to my blade to make another line
I was happy to finally feel the sweet sting
its a wonderful mysterious thing
the freedom of the blood flowing from my veins
and away with it goes all my pains
mid scream I stop and smile
as I pull myself off the tile
I pick up my blade
so once more reality will fade
because I just realized I wasn’t weak
it was the sweet surrender of flowing blood I did seek
that all along I was fighting to see
because the lovely blade and crimson tears are part of me.

Reviews

[Bubo]

it was the sweet surrender of flowing blood I did seek
that all along I was fighting to see
because the lovely blade and crimson tears are part of me.

Stunning imagary, the need to cut, an affliction that you describe so well........the anger, sorrow and knowing its wrong, but a way that u make it right for you..................You have written such a powerful piece on this topic..........