ice cold blade
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- Parts 1
he cold icy blade,
running across my skin,
Sending chills down my spine.
Crimson blood running down my wrist,
Dripping down drop by drop to the sink below me.
I feel calm, and in control.
The devil inside me has taken my soul.
The blade doing it's job one time, two times, three and more.
My vision goes blurry, the room goes dark, my heart pounds faster.
I wake up the next day groggy, confused.
People pounding on the bathroom door.
My brain pounding in my head.
I put on my best face,
Because they can't know,
They won't know.
I'll find an excuse, for everything.
And their world will be fine.
No matter if mine is a living hell.
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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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