Time and time again,
I drag that blessed blade
Across my thighs
Creating tiny dots of red.
Red is my release
From pain.
Sweet relief from life.
Until,
My mother finds me.
Sees my broken personality
Sees me cutting
Sees me.
She tells me
Not to do it again.
I don't answer her
I can't promise that.
It's addicting
I can't stop
I can't stop being free.
Free from pain
Free from defeat.
Free from worry.
Free from life.
Doesn't she know?
Red is my release
Red is my freedom
Red is my pleasure
Red is my relief.
I survive by red;
I can't do it without red.
I need red.
Red and I go together.
What can I say?
Time and time again,
I drag that blessed blade
Across my thighs
Making tiny dots of red.
Red is my release
And you can't ask me
To stop now.
YOU ARE READING
Submerged Stories
PoesíaLong story short, this is a book of stories about my life that I don't tell anyone else, expressed through the beautiful art of poetry. Poetry is my way of finding myself, and hopefully you as readers will be able to find yourself as well. TRIGGER W...
