*TW- self harm*
*an updated version! i changed it for my performance in This Is My Brave! scroll down for the old version :)*
dear mom
i'll start with i'm sorry
sorry that i keep letting myself get the better of me
that i keep letting silver paint over the wounds
i can't help it
i'm just addicted to the crimson
to the infinite reds it draws out of me
and i know should apologize but I can't
can't apologize for letting silver
drip into my veins
and swallow up the warmth
can't apologize for needing the cold
for needing the crimson
for needing this
i am a girl made red
a girl made crimson
a girl made into infinite
bleeding out like a martyr
i have turned this body into martyr
and painted myself into a red saint
God I've fallen off the brink of sanity
and now this is the only thing that feels right
the only thing that lets me sleep at night
i know the cycle is dangerous
i know crimson and silver are dangerous
i know theres only so much you can draw
before that is all you are
but i've never been more satisfied
than when red smears across the canvas
never felt more powerful
than when the silver is in my palm
it's just mother
i'm so sorry
for being so destructive
for drawing out the red
that you never wanted me to see
for letting silver poison my wounds
i know you wanted more for me
i wanted more for me
i know i should apologize
but i can't
i'm sorry
*TRIGGER WARNING: this is the older version, which contains much more vivid imagery that can most definitely cause at least some uncomfortable feelings. viewer discretion is advised.
Dear mom
I'll start with I'm sorry
I'm sorry that I keep letting myself get the better of me
that I keep letting silver cut open the wounds
I can't help it
I'm just addicted to the crimson
to the infinite reds it draws out of me
I know should apologize but I can't
can't apologize for letting silver
drip into my veins
press into my hips
and swallow up the warmth
can't apologize for needing the cold
for needing the crimson
for needing the blood
I am a girl made red
a girl made crimson
a girl made into infinite
bleeding out like a martyr
I have turned this body into martyr
and painted myself into a red saint
God I've fallen off the brink of sanity
and now this is the only thing that feels right
the only thing that lets me sleep at night
I know the cycle is dangerous
I know crimson and silver are dangerous
I know theres only so much you can bleed
before you become the blood
but I've never been more satisfied
than when red smears across my fingertips
never felt more powerful
than when the silver is in my palm
It's just mother
I'm so sorry
for being so destructive
for drawing out the red
that you never wanted me to see
for letting silver poison my wounds
I know you wanted more for me
I wanted more for me
I know I should apologize
but I can't
I'm sorry
YOU ARE READING
wilting roses
PoetryAnother collection of (bad) poems. *tw: mentions of sexual assault, drug use, drinking, suicidal ideation and self harm* -a collection of poems that document my experiences with my mental health throughout high school. a warning: i had a few undiagn...
