My Body's Canvas

My Body's Canvas

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Nov 29, 2014
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Fiction
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My body is my canvas. It tells a story of a girl who is marked by a devil for death. It is the price of silence day after day I wait for a savor to hear my desperate plea, yet eerie silence is what echoes. So, as I wait, I draw, and my body is my canvas. My paint brush is the blade that digs into the skin until the blood slowly trickles down my thighs, and arms. It is the blood that seems to make it ,all better, at least for a short while. For each drop of blood, represents a puzzle piece of pain, oozing out of my shattered glass heart. But each master piece his a hidden work of art. For no one can see what is painted on her legs, thighs, sides, or stomach. The canvas plays a game of hide and seek, where it doesn't dare come for a peek. ---------- This is unfinished and pertains to go how it feels to deal with depression, anxiety, death, and other hardships. More to be added. I do not own any YouTube videos that may appear. ---------- CAUTION: May be triggering for some readers.
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Illustration

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Sometimes when I say "I'm okay", I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight and say, "I know you're not". I have felt like this many times in my life; as a kid, teenager and as an adult. I have seen many things in my life and felt even more things that has been horribly depressing... But I got up. I stood up to walk on for another day. I dealt with my emotional amnesia the only way I knew I could and that was by writing it out into poetry. I wanted to forget my pain and forget what I was going through. I needed that cut of the blade or a pill to drink to take everything away. My poetry became both my pill and my blade... Now I share the most intimate part of myself with the world. The part of me I kept hidden in the closet. The part I never thought I would ever present to the world. Now is the time I have to stop having amnesia about my emotions. It is time to learn, to better myself and to stand up and remember the things that I shut out like a voluntary amnesia all these years. Those who are offended after reading this - f**k you! If you are sad with me and willing to cut your wrist - I know how you feel! If you just enjoy the words - I love you! #679 in Poetry on 17/03/2018 #779 in Poetry on 18/03/2018 #807 in Poetry on 19/03/2018 #474 in Poetry on 22/03/2018

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