Self-Harm Poetry

1820 poems on self-injury.net

Displaying 1451 - 1460 of 1820

Untitled

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The rain falls heavily against her window
As the tears from her eyes mirror the effect.

Her head was an empty void
That not even she could fill.

Shadows of trophies cast upon her still body
Teasing her of the talent she ceased to use.

Tree branches crash at the glass
As if to say let me in
But all she wants is out.

HopelessNess

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It feels so hopeless,
but you don’t give up,
you can’t let them down,
you need to reach your goal.

You spend hours thinking,
of ways to reach your goal,
you wonder how you got here,
you wonder why you came to be.

You cry at that thought,
your so far away,
you don’t want to wait,
but there is nothing you can do, or say.

You will wait forever,
for as long as it takes,
you keep pressing on,
even when you feel dead, and when your awake.

You keep believing,
you keep praying,
you wonder if he listens,
you wonder if he’ll answer.

You wonder if he’ll let you,
you wonder if he’ll send you,
you wonder if you have to do something first,
and you keep on praying.

These things I can not answer,
only try and understand, and let him do his work,
but I wont give up,
and I will keep going on.

You start to worry and fear,
you want to stop your thoughts,
the fear of what might happen,
and you let the door hit you on your way out.

You take a look at yourself,
and clench your eyes shut,
scared and disgust of what is beheld in front of you,
you want to scream out loud.

You feel like your running in circles,
and you want to run straight,
but the path your on,
is now bent and broken.

You feel co

Moving Forward

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I sit alone in this cold, steel chair,
Alone and tired, losing the feeling of hope,
What am I to do?
Have I really lost grip on reality?

There are some things I cannot answer,
Some things that I may never understand,
But I push forward in life,
Not letting go of what I hold dear.

I may be sad at times,
But that means nothing,
Every second you’re sad or angry,
Is a second of happiness and laughter you can never replace.

Untitled

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red lines
strange…it’s red
red water
in lines
red
all i can see is red
spurting
oozing
dripping
screaming
so red
red everywhere
i want more of it
it’s killing me.

but i take a step back
and look at it.
it is art,
blood drawings
beautiful sometimes

i feel the need
to make more drawings
terrible beauty
scratches on skin

now i feel better

Untitled

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I promise, Katie, I won’t cut anymore.

Oh god

the blood red

so red
pouring out

gushing
need it to

need the red
need it to flow

to drift
on water

my wrists slit
but not enough to die

(yet)

Oh god I need to need

I need it so bad
that it’s killing me

as I want to slowly
kill myself

line by line
of red

upon my wrist

Untitled

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Bleeding metaphors
I rip my heart, still beating, from my chest
pour it onto paper, stained with red ink
words and sentences clotting in the air
forming the metaphor of my life

Blood Stars

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dancing blood stars, painted skin.
the snap.
razor tears like piranha devouring
the mask.

lead belly, pregnant with
lumps sliding downward.

sinking pellets of
crimson oceans

spectral phosphenes
dancing across fetid rotting
corpses of sentences i climb over

gears of anguish
undulations of was
and has and finished
amplified with
pauses and commas

the sand beneath my feet
sinks beneath my toes
sometimes it cannibalizes my psyche

Conform

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Alone
Surrounded by a swarm of insects they call people
They wish to feast upon me
Why?
What is it about me?
Why am I chosen to be the prey?
I’m exhausted.
From running.
From hiding.
From being chased my whole life
Maybe I should give up
Let them devour me
It’s what they want
Me to conform to their ways
Their language
Their look
But I won’t
Even the people who claim to be different are all the same now
So vain.
Such vain little creatures
I curse you

SCARS

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These scars I bear upon my skin
show more than just my pain.
They show the battles I have fought;
the battles I have won.
These war wounds last to prove
I’ve faced the worst and lived.
They show me that the past is real.
They show me what I’m worth.
Strength is their strongest message
And courage is there too.
These scars remind me that
I have faced Death himself and defied his wish.
The skin and flesh may be broken
But the spirit remains unharmed.
Though everyday I take that bladde

He Wants

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Why all the hate?
Where does it come from?
Just look at the kid. Take a long glare
You couldn’t even give him another
He doesn’t deserve all this
He doesn’t
He doesn’t
He’s just sad, he cried
So sad. So sullen.
So angry at people, especially you
A combo of sophistication, desires, sudden deaths
What else can you do?
People put their selfish, grotesque arms up and say:
Stop, go
Get lost, get over this.
You continue to torture him
You go on and burn him, slash him, scratch him
Look at his arms,
A slice, a dice, the permanence it’s achieved
It’s all your deeds, your deeds your doings
Why hurt him? Made him a masochist
Full of thirst for your uncompromising judgments
He screams, he shrieks
Never submitting but yearned for the pain
You stuff him pills, shoving him handfuls
When does it end. Suspended forever?
Diminished
Never
Those things. They sink down, down so low
They come up, up to grab your head and shake it hard
The world flattens, you flail
Those things. They never disappoint. Miraculous.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up
Stop the mourning
Mourn for all your got? All you own?

Displaying 1451 - 1460 of 1820