Yorikaze, poem # 12
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Lustrous strands of crimson silk gradually seep from the nick I had created;
Once again I caress the point of the blade, and apply enough pressure to pierce my skin while move downwards slashing my entire finger; moving across my palm;
Satiny strings of deep mahogany distributaries run down my hand, gradually reaching my wrist;
I then clutch the blood-stained grip till my knuckles turn white;
Staggering towards the washroom, Thoughts overcome my mind whispering, "How this is my escape."
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Painting a picture with crimson paint, the brush soaked in deep mahogany;
Every stroke painted with every part of me, Mind, Body, And soul;
Selling my soul for drops of vermillion;
I carve my body word by word telling what I have had to endure;
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-Paint my body
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A/N
distributaries: A branch of water(liquid) that does not return to the mainstream once it's left.
Lustrous: Also known as glossy, or radiant.
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Self-harm is not a solution, though it may feel right at the moment it does not mean it's good.
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¶ We All Die Alone ¶
Poetry𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢. __ {Complete} A world made up of my fantasies and dreams, but something's not right... Welcome to my world of occurrences that seem almost too surreal to even exist! Welcome to...
