One Last Cut

Copyright, Jaimie

the scars have faded,
but the pain is near,
for you I have cryed,
this one last tear

Im glad your gone,
but I cherished our time,
for you I will write,
this on last ryhme

I say your gone,
but I know its true,
you will be with me,
untill I’m through

I left you behind,
but it will not last,
you are my future,
you are my past

The last tear has dropped,
now the book will shut.
For you I will make,
this one last cut.


Contained Release

Copyright, Jaimie

You stand beside me, but I feel alone. I am lost, but I feel at home. You pull me together, Yet pull me apart. You say you love me, but break my heart. You give me light, but still it is dim. I have nothing to lose, yet I can’t win. No one is listening, but I still talk, I feel surrounded, but alone I walk. It’s their fault, but myself I blame. I show pride, but you show shame. You are so sharp, but you make me feel dull. You tell me to push, but instead I pull. It feels so good, but causes me pain. I feel fine, but you say im insane. I don’t stop, but I know I should. It may look bad, but it feels too good. Although I smile, inside I cry. I don’t wish to live, but I don’t want to die. I want it to end, eventhough its just begun. I know I can’t win, you’ve already won. I hate being with you, but its you that I miss. You love to hurt me, but its you I can’t resist. You tell me to hold on, but I’ve already let go, im dead inside, but you’ll never know. We’re face to face, but your back is turned. My heart is cold, but still it burns. It is obvious, but I still hide, that in you, I confide. The less I listen, the louder you scream. the more I bleed, the better you seem. I want to leave, but I have to stay, thers nothing inside me, Yet it won’t go away. I’m not heard. yet my scars are loud. You are ashamed, but I am proud. Although it is broken, my heart starts to pound, then I release all of this, without a sound.


Art Work

Copyright, Jaimie

i want to draw a picture for you.
a portrait of my life.
it will only have one hue.
and I will draw it with a knife.
your love for me is thin,
so my canvas is my skin.
you are the one who drove me to this.
So I make this picture on my wrist.
All of the marks are straight.
And they decide my fate.



Permanent location: