Poems of Death

Old Scars Die Hard

I focus on the bleeding

in my Left Arm for so long

the destruction I've created

the pain I've caused myself

I pick at the wounds in my skin

until it starts bleeding again

I complain of an itch in my brain

I complain of the old blood stains

I complain when there's no one listening

I speak even after saying everything

The scabs begin to form

and the pain begins to heal

and I think maybe it fades

maybe it's true and it goes away

but there's this tugging in my Right Arm

and it never goes away

one day I start to wonder what

could make me feel that little tug

and I see it's bleeding too

and I start to feel it

dripping down my Arm like new

and I start to feel him

in every corner of my mind

I start forgetting

the pain in my Left Arm

the pain from Right is so strong now

that I believe Left is better

I don't even feel it anymore

until something grabs my Arm 

and yanks it

and the stitching comes undone

and suddenly I'm exposed again

I'm open and fresh

and both Arms burn as I bleed

my lungs scream holding back pleas

my mind cries when I have to lie

lie in a pool of my own blood

my own filth and mess

my own pain and suffering

and I want to tell you I am sick

but you want to solve the problem

and I'm tired of solutions

I wish you would all realize

that there are none

there is no solution and nothing will help now

I just have to bleed

I have to let the scabs form

I have to toughen my skin

but first I have to bleed

first I have to die a little

first I need a last

and the last was in my Right Arm

the first was in my Left

once I finish bleeding out

I'll be ready to confess

I'm dying where I lay here

and I've killed my kinder mind

fear will always lay here

my mistakes are made

I'm scared I'll mess up once again

that this pain will never end

maybe next time a leg or my head

the bleeding keeps on going

and the pleading never ends