Copyright Ghost

With these weathered hands I have formed crimson bands
Watching the pain flow down my arms
My body reading harm but my mind seeing only release…
Veins erupting
Stains like memories forming
Reminding me without hesitation of my late night vindications.
In the moment of each slice against the grain I feel no pain;
Soothing; like a calmed rain.
Soon enough… I’ll be drained of these emotions
And reminiscent of the ocean, your image crashes against the lids of my eyes like waves to the sand.
Soon enough… I’ll be ashamed of this scarring band.
I’ll find that I’ve been marked with the brand of someone who doesn’t know how to express what he feels.
To some this isn’t even real.
It’s just an ill-conceived notion;
The ignorant motion of razor to wrist.
They might not understand this,
But I can’t remember the last time things felt right.
Maybe it’s not the smartest use of my time
But the choice is mine
And it’s become the only way I know how to feel.

If Only

Copyright Ghost

Tears blur her vision as she marks an incision.
Crimson bracelets clutter her wrist.
The decision comes lightly
She cuts deep not slightly
Each stroke takes away lifetimes of pain.
Scars will remain but they never cause her to refrain
She doesn’t even pause from her cause.
Tonight will end soon enough
But it will still be rough.
She sits there alone,no one beside her
No one to guide her away from the blade.
They think she has the perfect life.
It’s easy to assume when you re blind.
They never noticed the dull in her eyes,
Never heard her silent screams for someone, something to really bring out the light in her life.
No one took the time to ask if she was alright,
No one cared to call her at night.
She’d become a ghost in a shell
But no one could ever tell the difference.
Now she was used to the distance.
The razor is pointed across her veins;
Sharpened to sever her pain.
Her hands shake…
This is getting too much for her to take.
This time she doesn’t even wipe up the blood.
She just watches the flood of scarlet consume the white of her sheets.
Her parents sit in the living room watching the TV.
Her brother is on his computer burning some CDs.
She can t comprehend how everyone lies in oblivion, unable to see her self inflicted jewelry.
She doesn’t wear them with pride,
But she never tried to hide them.
She’s getting away with murder; it s an emotional homicide.
She’s getting tired now, fatigue is setting over.
Still she bleeds
she’s still cutting, thinking it s what she needs.
She sobs as she breathes,
Tears rolling down in beads.
She lies down and shuts her eyes;
Her cheeks are beginning to dry from a lack of tears left to cry. She falls into a peaceful and infinite sleep.
She was found in the morning wrapped in blood stained sheets.
There was no note, nothing left explained.
Her parents cried and took turns dealing the blame.
Her brother fought to understand but found it hard to withstand
This guilty feeling that he could have done something, anything.
On the day of her funeral she watched from above.
She never understood how much she d been loved.
There were friends and family and people from her church,
They had never realized how much she d been hurt.
People talked of old times and her promising life.
For a while her parents couldn’t sleep at night,
Things never really felt right
But they all remembered that night.
When they did dream they took flight
Catching up with her and holding on with all of their might.
There were more victims than just the killer
And more pain than that that had filled her
If only she’d felt needed
If only their feelings were seen and
If only…

Just One

Copyright Ghost

Ghost writes:

This is a poem I wrote on April 21st 2003. And I am a cutter again I’ve been cutting for about a year. This poem was written while I was cutting and bleeding. This is how I felt while I was cutting, basically I was feeling like this which is why I began to cut.

Left alone to die, I’m Just One. Black hearts and purple tears fill my world. Taking in the pain. Suffering with me being nothing. I’m Just One. As I bring hell on myself with a knife I look into the mirror to see no reflection. I’m Just One Take the deep breath as the chain suspends me in the air. I cannot care. Feeling the pressure on my neck. Feeling death surround me. I look around but I only see darkness and no reflection in the mirror. My air running out, my lungs burning and I am learning. Learning the lesson to be learned. My mind drifting so far away. Take it all away. My life slowly fading away. My eyes growing so heavy as they close for the last time. Knowing that I will die as Just One.

The Knife

Copyright Ghost

Feel the twist of the knife as it slowly drains you of your life. Push you closer to the ledge, feel the knife’s sharp edge. Feel the knife stab into your heart, as you and life come apart. Feel the cold steel as you lose your life to the knife.

Define Evil

Copyright Ghost

Evil is just live spelled backwards. Define evil. Evil is life, life is evil. Your skin peeling away as people try to bring you down. Take the round trip to hell and back. Twisting and screaming the entire way. With your mind and body eing violated. Having yourself raped in the strangest of ways. Define evil. People taking what they don’t deserve. Lies taking you over. Razor’s bringing pain, evil lives on. Define evil. Do you have the pride, the pain thresh hold to live on? Define evil.


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