Shards Of Insanity
Self-harming's a cry for help,
from a pit of depression.
Where, like a ghost, happiness,
is scary and elusive.
Those who are cutting reject
trite platitudes of pity.
For the pain they feel has been
festering in them since birth.
Shards of insanity cut
into insignificance.
And reality adapts
to abject low self-esteem.
Sparked by emotional needs,
panic ignites twisted nerves.
And only cutting can dull
anxiety's sharpened edge.
The sound of your beating heart
increases as steel cuts flesh.
And yet, for a chance to feel,
fear slips into submission.
Relief accompanies the
flow of blood fleeing your veins.
And you feel alive inside;
as cutting numbs greater pains.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment