Daisy Tyrrell Poet Bio

My Addiction

The blood doesn't pour out anymore,
But the scares still show,
Will these wounds heal or be forever sore,
The memories shine a bright glow.

The pain still remains,
The tears still fall,
Rivers of the blood still stains,
My wall remains tall.

A razor blade craved into my wrist,
Every cut shows pain,
Every scar has a story with a twist,
To many problems to explain.

There is no where to hide,
No reason to even try,
Inside I have already died,
As I disappear, I break down and cry.

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Jan Allison November 4, 2017 at 1:33 PM Such pain in every line Daisy and your words remind me of a student I worked with at high school who had a traumatic homelife especially as her parents were splitting up and there was so much conflict in her life. She told me she cut herself to prove she was still alive. hugs jan xx

Richard Lamoureux November 3, 2017 at 6:43 PM I wrote a piece called “Ripping” that I think you would appreciate. If you go to the top of this page and type Ripping by Richard Lamoureux you should find it. I too send a prayer in your direction. Many will not understand what you have expressed here because they have no frame of reference. Daisy Tyrrell November 4, 2017 at 7:50 AM i think in many ways our writing techniques may be similar x

Kelli White November 3, 2017 at 5:50 PM My dear lost soul you begged for help I am sending angels to you. Tonight you will feel the healing power of God. God bless you and heal you for you have done nothing to suffer. So many souls cry for the power to heal. You have this power. You can heal others. Salt of tears heal all wounds tomorrows first sun shall release your pain. Daisy Tyrrell November 4, 2017 at 7:51 AM thankyou i appreciate you input x