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I Am Pleading

Copyright, Jaimi

The blade in my hand,
The cold smooth weapon of choice,
It has become my only companion,
My blood spilling has become my voice,
I slash and rip at my wrists,
I tear at myself trying to reach my veins,
Trying to spill more of the red fluid,
That each of these strings contains,
Violently swinging this knife,
To keep you from stopping this action,
Can’t you understand that this pain,
Brings an odd sense of satisfaction,
That ripping my flesh apart to bleed,
Is the only way I can escape your hold,
The only way I can feel alive again,
After living in this world so cold,
Maybe I’ll get lucky one day,
And strike a vein that won’t stop bleeding,
To the hands of death I deliver myself,
Some salvation from pain is to which I Am Pleading…

More poems by Jaimi…

Too Tired

Copyright, Jen

too tired to live
too scared to die
must pull down my sleeves
and keep living this lie
always shameful
forever afraid
why do i have to be crazy
am i better off dead
locked away deep inside
so much hurt and the tears
kept all to myself
for these long painful years
please someone save me
look past my mask
don’t feel revulsion at me
this is all that i ask
i won’t ever be beautiful
with what my skin conveys
maybe another few cuts
will make this all go away
over and over again
the cycle goes along
i get lost in the moment
then cry because it’s wrong
hopefully i will go numb
my heart will turn to lead
then with a slip it’ll be over
and i’ll finally be dead

More poems by Jen…

Blood

Copyright, Julie

blood.
what is blood?
blood is the beginning and the end
blood is the enemy and blood is the friend
you start out your life with blood in your veins
you start out with it flowing to the depths of your brains
it gives you energy, strength, and go
but blood is two sided, i think you should know
when one thinks of blood, do they think it as life?
or do they perceive it as pain, tears, and strife?
after all, you end your life when your blood runs cold
you end your life when your years become old
blood is the symbol of life — of death
blood keeps flowing so you may take your next breath
blood is confusing, a puzzle to some
without blood though, life would be numb
so try to figure this out on your own if you like
is this idea a hit or a strike?
blood is the beginning and the end
blood is the enemy and blood is the friend.

More poems by Julie…

 

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