Its Time

Oh, hell okay at the time I wrote it this poem was about cutting but it could easily be about anything someone is repressing/supressing cause they're scared of it.

I feel the ghosts upon me
Crawling on my arms
Waiting to come out to play
Sliding down my spine
They wake from their long coma
Seep back into my bones
I feel the ghosts upon me
Crawling
Biting
Clawing
Fear that they will see
Takes over me
The ghosts are whispering
Waiting
Hiding
Their faces rescind
With the white lines on my skin
The ghosts are ready
Waiting
Daring me
To come out to play.

Reviews

[therisa]

A very imaginary and descriptive way, to write about your dark feelings, which in your case, you cut to deal with. Whereas in my case, it is long repressed memories of my childhood and the violence I had to endure both from my kid brother and the kids at school. I wish we didn't have the need to write about these dark experience of us. Hoping at the time of writing this particular poem, it help you to deal with the issue of cutting yourself. Thank you, for sharing this personal glimpse into your past.