A Vampiress's Last Act by bandgeekpoet42, literature
Literature
A Vampiress's Last Act
knowing whats there,
isnt enough
needing to see, feel and taste,
Makes life rough.
She cuts her wrists,
lets them bleed,
its what she wants,
its what she needs
To feel the pain,
to watch the blood,
to let it pool,
to let it flood.
To feel the damp warmth
flow down her arm
the feeling she gets
is just a charm
she lowers her lips,
she sips the blood,
tastes the bitter salty sensation,
and hits the ground with a thud.
Why do I put up with this anymore?
I cant fucking stand it,
the tears; the joy: a rollercoaster of emotions.
I must be a problem
Long time friends ignoring me
or at least it seems that way
new friends surface,
but can I trust them?
Sick and tired of bringing others down,
can't stand seeing others hurt,
even though they hurt me first,
I wish life wasnt about this.
staying up late: I cant sleep,
music blaring in my ears: very emo thoughts in my head.
tears in my eyes, blade in my hand,
I look down and realize Im bleeding
Broken spirits, broken minds,
Broken bodies in the road,
Staring
Starting at me.
"Help us," they scream,
I just stand there,
Useless but not forgotten.
I make a move,
Try to help, but fail.
Worthless I crawl home,
Searching for something to ease the pain.
Broken spirit, broken mind,
Unable to function,
Unable to go on.
There's a little emo girl
Sitting alone in the corner,
Unsure of what to think,
How to feel, what to be.
Sometimes that little girl,
All alone in the corner,
All she does is write.
Poetry's her outlet.
Sometimes all that girl wants
Is an escape from life.
All she wants is to leave,
Leave life far behind.
The choice is hers,
And only hers to make.
How much longer will she live,
Until she leaves us.
Do I really want to stay here
Or should I go away?
When talking and writing isn't enough,
I turn to other ways.
Other ways,
Painful ways,
Punishment I deserve.
Don't ask me why I do it,
I'm not even sure.
If I slit my wrists a couple times,
Will that make me emo?
If I cry all night,
Will that make me emo?
What's the difference between emo and goth?
Emo and mentally disturbed?
Are these good things,
Or are they bad?
Dear friend, Your scaring me now,
I'm sorry about what happened,
And I just wanna make things right
I wanna help you out now that your down,
I wanna make your life better,
I wanna make sure your okay.
Are you okay?
I lie awake wondering
If your okay
I can't sleep at night
Please make it through tonight
The fact that you've done this stuff before
And that you've thought of doing it tonight
It scares me, Terrifies me,
To know you might be hurt
I just wanna know that you're okay,
Please be okay.
Are you okay?
I lie awake wondering
If your okay
I can't sleep at night
Please make it through tonight
I've never felt this clos
Almost cut
This is what happens,
When my parents tease me,
Yell at me for no reason,
Sometimes they treat me like crap.
Siblings who threaten me,
Scare me,
Torture me,
Put me down,
And I believe them.
I grab a knife in the kitchen,
Wrap it in some paper towels,
Sneak them into my room,
Shut the door tight behind me,
I pull up my sleeve,
Hold the knife against my arm,
Try to put pressure on the knife,
But I can't,
I hesitate,
I throw the knife down,
And run.
Tonight I almost became a cutter,
Who knows how close I'll come tomorrow.
I bring the knife to my arm,
I try to press it into my flesh,
Waiting for,
The anticipated pain.
I try using a sawing motion,
Which doesn't help,
Instead it just tears up,
The top layers of my skin.
So now my arm's all red,
It stings,
It stings more than it hurts,
I wish it hurt more.
I wish it bled,
To end troubles in my life,
I wish I could feel,
The real pain of cutting.
The real pain,
Instead of just the sting of a first attempt,
The real pain of a real cut,
Bleeding.
You might stop for days,
You might stop for weeks,
But then something will happen,
And that addiction will return.
Something will happen,
Something will put you down,
Make you mad or sad,
And that addiction will return.
You'll be pissed,
You'll be annoyed,
You might even want to die,
And that addiction will return.
Something has happened
To make you give in
And that old addiction
Has returned.
Sure it hurts,
Its worthwhile,
Punishment owed,
For denial.
Am I addicted?
I think I am;
Late at night,
Blood on my hand.
Why did I start?
I can't stop;
Razor in my hand,
Cut, cut, cut
Take a blade,
Slit my wrist,
Let it bleed.
Let it rid me
Of my pain.
Because
You weren't
There for me,
Because you
Didn't
Come To me
When I needed
You most,
Because you're not there,
Because you don't care,
I bleed
Because of you.
Don't care
Who sees,
Don't care
Who knows,
Don't try
To stop me,
It's the only way.
I'm all alone,
You're not here to comfort me,
I'm all alone,
No one's here.
All alone,
Screaming at night,
All alone,
Needing someone.
All alone at night,
With my knife,
Digging into my skin.
Let it bleed.
I'm all alone.
Can't you see
That I need you?
Can't you see
I'm the one for you?
Stop obsessing over your instrument,
You're acting worse than me.
You gave me your used reed,
But was that just
To shut me up?
You let me bug you,
But today was the first day
That you got kind of pissed.
If you look at my wrist,
You will see scars,
Scars form not that long ago,
Scars from when there was no hope.
But can't you see,
You are my hope.
Stop obsessing over your saxophone.
Don't make me do it again,
Don't make me cut again,
And don't think I won't.
Don't let me lose hope,
At least pay me some kind of attention.
Come save me,
Stop my pain,
Why must it end like this?
Why am I like this?
I slit my wrist,
And wrote his name in blood
In my notebook.
I wonder what he'd think of that.
D r e w
In blood
In my notebook.
He hates me now,
But I still like him.
Why is it like this?
Why must I suffer?
I've started to cut
Once again.
D r e w
In blood
In my notebook.
Why couldn't there
Have been a happy ending,
Like in fairy-tales?
Instead,
I cut,
I bleed,
And I suffer.
Death,
Is it something to fear?
Is it really that bad?
Why do so many
Fear death?
I don't fear it,
Actually,
I welcome it.
It's bound to come eventually,
So why put it off?
Sometimes I wish,
Death would come to me,
To put me out of
My misery,
But when will it come?
I can end my life.
Is that such
A bad idea?
Won't someone please,
Put me out of this misery?
.:.L O V E . I S . D E A D.:. by Unlabeled-X-Retarded, literature
Literature
.:.L O V E . I S . D E A D.:.
No one really knows
No one realy cares
No one really understands
No one really loves
Its been broken too many times before
So healing will be a problem this time
Its too weak
The edges stab my soul
Its too fragile
The pieces dont fit anymore
Let it die
Let it bleed
Let it cry
Its something I dont need
Worthless tears
Bleed from my eyes
Wasting time
Choking over your lies
Denied chances
Nothing will change
Innocent crime
Everything I have has become deranged
I give up
I'm giving in
And not cuz it's the easy path
But because it's the one I'll enjoy
I don't care what you say
And I'm fucking tired of fighting it
I just needed to tell you all
And I'm too cowardly to do so in person
I've chosen my side
And my decision is final.
The tears that I cry; they run down my cheeks//
The tears drop down like a pipe with a leak//
The tears that cloud my eyes with black//
The tears, they die; they burn and crack//
The tears that swell when times are blue//
But do these tears mean anything to you? //
The blood that drips from my fragile wrists//
The blood pours out when I clench my fist//
The blood that stains my sleeves with red//
The blood, from veins, it now has fled//
The blood that sheds when I can't renew//
But does this blood mean anything to you? //
The scars that imprint; they show my pain//
The scars remind me to carry this chain//
The scars that lay dee
Everything We Used To Be by forty2point0, literature
Literature
Everything We Used To Be
If I didn't know I'd do more harm than good
I know I'd do whatever I could
To find the right words to tell you
Just how much you mean to me
Then I'd beg you to once again be
Everything we used to be
In spite of everything that you do
And all the shit you've put me through
I'm crying blood and bleeding tears
Because one of my greatest fears
Is that someday may be the last day I see you
If I didn't think I'd go and cause you pain
I'm sure I'd tell you just how insane
I go seeing you with her
Or when you say you love her
And when I remember how we were
Everything we used to be
In spite of everything that you do
And all the shit
I'm lying in my bedroom,
I am overwhelmed by pain,
And the lack of ways to grieve,
Is starting to drive me insane.
When poetry isn't enough,
To empty out my mind,
I'll cut my wrists and wish,
That I could simply find:
Somewhere to scream,
Where no one yells at me for being too loud,
Somewhere to cry,
Where no one accuses me of being dramatic,
Somewhere to bleed,
Where no one fusses over the mess I'm making,
Somewhere to dream,
Where no one wakes me to the horrors of the world.
But I'm cooped in this cage,
There's always someone around,
Who I'm afraid to cry to,
Even make a gloomy sound.
I need someone who'll listen,
Who u
I cut myself and watch it bleed,
I feel the rush inside of me,
I don't cause I'm stupid, or I'm ignored,
I do it because I'm kinda bored,
Running down, the bloods so great,
How did I ever get to this state?
I know its wrong, that I should fight,
then why the hell does it feel so right?
Why can't I stop, how can this be,
that I cut myself were no one can see,
no cries for help, don't want to be found,
but walking around my blood stains the ground,
I need help, I know I do,
I hidwe in the dark, won't come through,
And so, unfinished this poem shall go,
because, what happens next you never shall know.
-Mikki
Cutting,
It's like a drug,
Your mind slows
And your heart speeds up,
And then switches its order,
While your heart beats faster you forget about everything else,
Everything that has happened to you,
Your mind is glued to pain on your arm or your leg,
And thats why its so hard to quit,
It helps relax the pain in your heart and mind
i see that you've been on lately, though you haven't posted anything yet this year i'm wondering about you, about how things have changed for you since you wrote all these poems about cutting...not so much if you're still a cutter. but how life is different. and how your poetry has improved, i'm hoping it has, because if so it's undoubtedly amazing by now.
sorry, i didnt see this comment untill now. lifes been, well, busy. I havent really had time to write much, but hopefully this summer i'll get a chance to write some more poem. lifes been alright. theres been a lot of high points and just as many low points, but i guess thats just how things roll.