I'm starting to see my wrists differently
Tears will fall
My skin will cry
Making an easier path for the blade
To cut through the fabric of life
Soon those blue life lines
Will burst
Run red with agony
Blot out life with pain
In that simple moment
Time will stall
My tears will dry
And the only thing that will exist
Will be pain
It will blot out everything
Almost too excited to try
To experience what it might feel like
And own the label
Fulfil the stereotype
Instead of a doctor
I'll be the patient
Instead of a stitch
I'll be the cut
I didn't want to end up this way
Curled in a dark hall
A pit of despair
Trying to live free of the lie
Curious to know
Just how much blood can flow
My wrist looks vulnerable
Innocence stained red
The more I stare
I see blue going red
The more I glare
I see scars appearing there
Like severed stitching
My sadistic scars
Carve a new path in life
Like broken bonds
My barbaric bloodstains
Cut down life
That's hanging by a thread
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PuisiPretty much a window to my soul over the past few years. Some poems that were written earlier are of not as good quality, so forgive that. This is a collection that breaks the window to my life.
