I'm searching for the bestest of friends,
a blade who'll agree when my life's going to end,
one that won't argue, or tell me to stop,
one that will encourage fresh cuts on top,
not tiring or stopping,
a blade that will carry on chopping,
one that will slice,
cut my skin and dice,
one that will make my blood boil and rise,
quenching a thirst deep inside,
one that will nod as I ask of it more,
it won't complain at this hazardous chore,
but gleam and grin as it's selected,
hurting me, it's pain accepted,
an ordinary feeling now,
the stinging, a silent vow.
YOU ARE READING
Self harm poems
PuisiJust some poems I wrote about self harm, suicide and eating disorders. Please don't read if there going to trigger you x
