It's been too long since I've gotten my fix.
My will power never seems to stick.
I know this craving is really sick,
But a decent loss of blood should do the trick.
I'm so deprived of the blade's affection.
The pink and white lines are like perfection.
I want more scars for my collection.
I'll slice up this body section by section.
Wanna feel that sharp metal split my wrist.
Unleash the burn I can't resist.
Pleasurable pain like a toxic kiss.
My pure, unmarked skin I will never miss.
Tear apart the flesh white as snow.
Watch the beautiful, scarlet rivers flow.
I never thought I could sink this low.
But all I feel now is a warm, peaceful glow.
Consequences will come without a doubt.
My mother will scream and my mother will shout.
But I don't need to cry and I don't need to pout,
Because it's easier to bleed my problems out.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PoetryA collection of poems I have written while in the clutches of my demon named Depression.
