Equester Posted January 2, 2005 Report Posted January 2, 2005 For I know, it starts again, The burning itch below the surface, Just underneath the vein, begging to be free Addicted to this madness that cannot be stopped Step by step, the same thing every time First, shaking that cannot be stilled, Sweet friction against the skin, Uncontrollable shivering, wracking the frail limbs Second, burning within, spreading, Cold save for the areas of unnatural heat, Itching to tear the skin, shredding it off Third, the desire to destroy the life, Everything pitted against me, the voices telling the truth A truth I cannot deny, like the subliminal messages Fourth, the messages gain argument, To burry a blade deep within the pale skin, Mar the imperfect surface, tear everything that could restrain Fifth, light starts to dance along the metal, Not even knowing when I opened the blade, Mesmerizing me with the beauty of it, eliminating any responses Sixth, gently across the skin, cooling the burning, The layers break away beneath, revealing what I desire Slowly spreading along my arm, gaining in depth Seventh, my control snaps, my hand starts to shake, I want more; no I need more, begging to bury the blade deeper Longing to feel the pulse against the open air Eighth, I give in, nothing is here to stop me, Pulling the veins into the air, brutally snapping them, Watching sweet crimson spread across the floor Ninth, white glistens wetly in the light, A red sheen overlays everything I touch, The blood is so intoxicating, I can’t get enough Tenth, possibly the end, I don’t know, So much that I want and don’t have the strength to take, The knife slips though my fingers, my grip on it gone, Shivering so hard I can barely breathe Thoughts in my head, silenced as always, Peace, short lived and undeniably sweet, The crimson of my life gently spreading across the floor.
sweetnightmare Posted January 4, 2005 Report Posted January 4, 2005 I will not hide the fact that this poem makes my arms tinggle. Thinking of it all... But i like it for the fact it is full of such emotion. Maybe a lighter note or freedom will come to this quited and hushed side. Brave words, in what seems to be a hell inside. Sweetnightmare
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