Blood & Scars

Painful memories...

Each time,

my gaze gets harder 

to break away from.

The blood,

its pain.

The blood,

its hurt.

The blood

is pure beautiful.

The way how it flows

out of the little slit

upon my wrist.

Only a small bit

at a time,

don't need people thinking

I'm losing my mind.

Not again, no,

not this time.

The dried blood spots

haunt me in my dreams

keeping me awake.

That's the only way

to relieve the pain.

The one thing I really want

is just a plain, old hug from the one I love.

Even that, though,

won't heal the cuts.

Author's Note

I'm a cutter. Well, I was. I never got to the point of breaking my skin, though. Thank God. Sometimes, I think about it again. I don't know why I don't. I want to, but I just can't bring myself to slice. Not again.

Reviews

[Hello, Goodbye]

I can totally understand this.. the despondency screams for a need to inflict pain and that pain is beautiful because it deems you alive if only for a moment.. and its difficult to express and reveal this hurting to anyone but yourself.. so even if you do have a love one, the inner need for hugs and reassurance never occur because you dont know how to let yourself experience that.. good solid write on this subject.. the message is clear and the notions readily attainable trough your imagery..

[Carrion.]

sounds like a song.
i like it.. filled with imagery, and pain.

[PadfootBlack]

I've got scars that aren't going away. Now every time I wear short sleeves, I try to keep my wrists covered, because I just don't want to explain when people ask. It's not a path you wanna go down, I'm glad you stopped before it got bad. It's an addiction, like any other drug, and there's nothing good about being a junkie. Replace blood with the Love that never fails.