Spilling Blood

Copyright Hannah

I cut my arm
I wound my wrists
I see it now
The darkend mists.

I feel the anger
I see the pain
I watch my soul
Die down the drain.

My wrath is immense
I killed all my glee
My hope has all gone
now I pay the fee.

These cuts on my body
Will soon be scars
I think to myself
I look at the stars.

I’ve realised now
That I don’t feel the pain
I’ve realised now
That there’s nothing to gain.

This is for all of us

Copyright Hannah

We can’t tell each other to stop
It’s hypocritical
But it hurts me so bad to see
A stranger
Doing exactly what I do to me
I want to let you know I care
Even though it may seem false
I wish I could reach through my screen
And hold every one of you
Comfort you
I understand how you feel inside
The pain in my blood feels like yours
So we let it seep out
People so cruel and so heartless
Have taught us to do what we do
They hurt us
So we do too
The blade or the fire
The rage deep inside us
I know how good it feels to
Let the feelings bleed away
I want to let you keep doing it
It works so well
But I can’t because I know the pain you feel
You are my family although I do not know
Who you are
They told me it hurts them
When we do what we do
So I told them it hurts me
When they did what they did
I won’t stop for them because they made me cry
But maybe we can stop for each other
Please help me try
We are all in this together and maybe
Just maybe
We could be okay
We need each other
I need you and I want to help you
I relate to you and I feel what you do
I don’t want to force you to give up
Your best friend
I just want all of you to know
That we can replace the blade or the fire
If we take up each other
Not them they hurt us
We can trust each other for we are truly family

Don’t Cry I’m Gone

Copyright, Hannah

As she steps out of the cold school she hides her face.
As other kids walk past her they do not notice her tears.
They have many names for this girl with her dyed black hair and brown eyes so dark.
They call her withcraft, goth, vampire, freak.
Do they know how much she would like them to say Hannah.
For another child to wave and smile at her?
They do not relize what they do to her. Or what she does to herself.
She may have friends but they are not true.
No one knows of her problem. No one knows.
Not her mother or father. Not her sisters or even her supposed best friend.
As she sits in her room she takes out her bloody razor and starts her beautiful art. A cut here. A cut there. She draws a X.
She wrights words of none make sense.
Although she still hides. In the summer it is must harder.
No short sleeves. No swimming. Just cutting.
But thats ok because she does have one friend. It doesnt judge her as she presses it agienst her arm. The razor is her friend. As you can tell she cant write poetry. But she can break your heart with one look at her. She can show you her scars but she wont. Dont love me I say. Dont come near me. Or you will know. And You will cry. I will break your heart. But you will never see inside of mine. For the depression has deprived it. So long and goodnight for this is my last line, i love you, dont cry, I’m gone.

The Real Thing

Copyright, Hannah

I never ment to be like this.
As I sit here with the razor in my hand.
Why can’t I just cry any more? Why do i have to bleed?
At school people will never understand. Thats why they don’t know.
At home its the same.
There is only one place to go. And i have only one way to get there.
With my razor.
Is a poem ment to ryme? Well then i don’t do poetry.
Why do they judge people by the way they escape?
I dont want to stop.
I need this escape.
Cutting is not my problem.
It’s my solution.

The Secret of Crimson Beauty

Copyright, Hannah

Those brown eyes show no pain.
Her brown eyes don’t show her lies.
Those brown eyes stare at the floor when she walks in school.
Her beautiful brown eyes do hold a secret.
Those brown eyes watch her hold a razor to her arm.
Those brown eyes see her pain.
Those brown eyes see the blood.
Her brown eyes are longing to cry but can’t.
But when those brown eyes go white you will know…
The secret of Crimson beauty.

Do They…

Copyright, Hannah

Do they care when you run into the bathrooms crying?
Do they even know that you bring a razor with you?
Do they know you see through their smiles?
Do they know with each word from their mouths you add a scar?
Do they know their hurting you?
Do they care that blood saves you from them?
Do they know becouse of them you have one friend,a razor?
Do they see your secret?
Do they feel guilty after you’ve left?
Do they even know who you are?
Do they see your pain?
Do they care?

Copyright, Hannah

They look at the girl.
She is a goth as they call it.
But no one can see her.
The real her.
The one thats crying inside.
She cant cry.
She does’t know how to cry.
She’s numb.
She uses razors as her way to cry.
Not rivers of tears.
But crimson rivers of pain.
They look at her, but then ahead.
She wont hear a hello from their lips.
But something will say hello.
A blade. A razor. a knife.
She is scared.
She is a lier.
She is a freak.
She is a goth.
She is 14.
She keeps her escape to herself.
No one know what she does.
Not even her best friend.
But they still glare at her.
They still call her names.
They still pretends she does not exist.
They still pass her in the halls.
She is invisable.
She is emotionless.
She is human.
She is free.
She is me.
And she is me.

The Hand That Isn’t There

Copyright, Hannah

As I dwell,
Curled up with my arms
Crossed across my knees
Tears leaking
Down my face.

Hands clasped to my face
What went wrong?
Face strewn with tears,
Where are they from?

As I sleep
My face untouched
The wind sweeps across me,
But I am just a shadow where I used to be.
Tears leaking
Down my face.

Hands clasped to my face,
What went wrong?
Face strewn with tears,
When will they be gone?

As I walk
People don’t see me,
Just a girl with a face
Pale and dead
Tears want to leak,
down my face

Hands clapsed to my face,
What went wrong?
Head full of fears,
Where do I belong?

As I lie
Tears in my eyes
In my bed
Where no one can see me
No one can save me
No one can help me
As I lie
Tears on my face,
Curled up
Where no one will see me
No one will save me
No one will help me
As I cry
Helpess and alone
As I reach out for
The hand that isn’t there
As I fall asleep
The tears won’t go away
As I fall asleep
The feelings will stay

Ripping Me of my Soul…

Copyright, Hannah

I’m back where I started,
At the very beginning.
Where I found cutting,
I found the release.
From all the pain that was taunting me.
Not aware,
Not a care.
Just the blade and my unworthy skin.
My skin is the canvas,
For my pain.
I see crimson at night,
When I lay on my bed,
While I dream to be dead.
I hold my breath,
Wishing for it to be over.
I think about the pain I’ve caused.
I turn my tears into my anaesthetic.
I slice in deep,
My mind is blank.
I drain myself of the pain,
For a time,
I fall asleep,
I’ve tired my mind.
I wake up and I’m still bleeding,
My blade has been feeding.
I am loosing my sense of self.
I feel ashamed,
So I do it again in the morning,
Before I rise for that dreaded day.
Wishing I could stay there,
And hide myself from the world.
I feel numb,
I don’t feel real.
So I cut some more,
It’s me and my blade,
Alone in my room.
My blade takes over,
And rips me of my soul.

Losing Myself

Copyright, Hannah

My thoughts, my memories,
All locked up inside.
Have been making me hurt,
But not able to cry.
Until someone found me,
Set me aside.
Got inside my head,
And made me feel alive.
I had my mind set on death.
I couldn’t live anymore
Give me the chance, to make my choice.
To decide between life and death.
I loose this person,
I push them away.
I care for them way too much,
To share my dangerous ways.

That Night…

Copyright, Hannah

I went from death to life,
In one night.
From despair to hope,
In just one night.
From hate to love,
From anger to acceptance,
From tension to relaxation
From needing more to satisfaction.
What has happened?
What the fuck?!
I have a smile on my face.
And I can see past today,
And that’s enough for me.

My take on life…

Copyright, Hannah

I sit here and think about life.
Conflict, Lies and deceit.
Part of our daily cycle.
People live their lives,
With this hanging over their heads.
Blissfully unaware, or knew but didn’t care.
I’m searching for a state of grace.
My canvas of my deepest truths and longings.
My life is like this.
Alienation and disconnection,
Emptiness and numbness.
Willing to live, but making excuses to die.
To get out of this hole,
So I can free my soul.

Dizzy rapture of starving

Copyright, Hannah

I feel like the world is caving me.
Why do I want to be so thin?
Is it for myself, or for other people?
Either way, I’m stuck in this cycle.
A habit of greed, and then of wastefulness,
As well as my secret shame.
Look down at me,
You will see.
You will realise what I’ve started.
You will know that it is a never ending struggle.
Don’t take away my tool, I want to have a choice.
I’m not addicted, I promise I’m not.
I’ll swear on our unfaithful God.
Why does it matter if I cry myself to sleep?
Why does it matter if I look at myself in disgust?
I’m ok, I can handle it, but can the people around me?
The habit makes me cry,
It makes me lie,
How can I survive?
I’m hurting inside.
I need this feeling in my only true friend.
The release, the world is now simple, it all makes sense.
But the feeling soon ends.
And I’m back with the feeling of despair.
I make a plan in my head.
I’m not gonna eat ‘til I’m nearly dead.
I crave to be thin, I need to be thin.
To stop the stares I see. To make me feel real.
The desperate attempt to hold on.
I am me…
And it hurts.
The dizzy rapture of starving.

Tortured Soul

Copyright, Hannah

Blood drips down my arm.
From despair, I want to die.
To peace, I don’t know why.
These feelings that I have,
So dramatic and changing,
I’m wondering whether I could take another beating.

The craving, the hopelessness,
Are times without my blade.
They are taunting me and hurting me,
A life I want to trade.

I’m fed up of the judging, and all the discussing.
Of my life, and all its faults.
I just want to hide away.
“No, I don’t want to come out to play”.

I’m sick of the using,
And the abusing.
I hope I’m more to you this time.
Or this time it’s the end of the line.
I will go all the way,
Just give me the excuse.

He holds me close,
When I am healing.
Because of all the hurt,
That I have been feeling.
Is it truthful, is it honest?
Or are you doing it, just to say,
“Make love to me, angel”.

I’m not angel. I am a tortured soul.
No peace, No sleep,
Just drowning in my own existence,
Forever searching for a way out.


Copyright, Hannah

The night I drunk, was the night i cried.
The fun and the fear were about to collide.
The friend I had,
Now a friend i’ve since lost
When the excitement and buzz,
Made her turn into dust.
I was all alone,
Or so I once thought.
Apart from the trees that were withered and taught.
I’m not alone, shall I be relieved?
Or is there more to his unsettling scheme?
Two hours past, and my friend was frantic,
How did I get there?
Why did I cause such a panic?
The rest I wont explain.
Because it reminds me of all the pain.
Two years have been and gone.
And I still think about that night.
I can’t get it out…
So I cut… and I cry…
I want to die…
With my arms raised above my head,
This feeling I will always dred.
Will I ever find someone that won’t remind me…
Of the night where I was forced to become a part of the ratio.
I now have a title, a name, a description.
I’m one in three, now there’s no need for precognition.


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