Best Self Harm Poems
School
They say they are here to help,
Yet have never actually helped.
They say they are there,
They are nowhere.
I don't see why they hate me,
Maybe they just can’t see.
All this rage,
I want to change.
I hate who I have become,
Yet I'm still so young.
I try to do good,
They never really understood.
I try,
But all I do is cry.
I hate this place,
They act like it’s a race.
I'm supposed to be learning,
Yet all I do is concerning.
Always in trouble,
It’s become a struggle.
Nobody ever wants to hear what I have to say,
One day when I’m doing better than they always did maybe they will regret what they didn't say.
Fires ablaze within my eyes,
A smile concealing all my lies,
Screaming, begging, calling out,
A final, frantic, desperate, shout.
Scarlet tears drip from each vein,
A vehement covet to end this pain,
This silver blade, stays by my side,
Because all hope inside has died.
As each day ends, and darkness draws,
The devil toys, with all my flaws,
I'm helpless, alone, a worthless mess,
A broken child, he must address.
I'm tempted when he calls my name,
A way out, an escape, an end to shame,
To make it feel a lot less real,
A deal with the Devil, in blood must I seal.
They'll say I died of suicide,
But no one knows how much they've lied,
It wasn't a rope, a blade, or pills,
That broke my soul, and gave me chills.
I died inside so long before,
To live each day, an endless chore,
Pills could not kill what was already dead,
A twisted soul, an empty head.
In darkness I wait, in silence, alone,
Rose-tinted nostalgia, all around me has grown,
I beckon the devil, with the key of self-harm,
And I open the door for him, with the blood of my arm.
Suicide, Self harm and Abuse…
The three things that are on my mind constantly. I hurt from the abuse I bleed from my self harm and I cry from my attempts. Sometimes I wish I can go somewhere and never come back. Sometimes I wish that none of this happened and sometimes I wish that she'd care more about me.
Why am I not better yet?
I’ve stopped eating,
Stopped thinking
The clock is ticking
Faster, faster
The days are blending together
I’ve cried too many tears
I’ve lost too many friends
I’ve ran out of sleep
My hands are shaking
My legs are bouncing
My hair hasn’t been washed
My teeth are yellow
Why am I not better?
I’m drowning in my own tears
I’m ill and no one is helping
This illness isn’t what it seems
It’s blood dripping down my arms
It’s tears being shed nightly
It’s the thought of being dead
It’s thoughts of hating myself
Is this all life has in store for me?
Why am I not better yet?
They keep us turning down the halls like cattle
Keep your eyes up
Face forward
No phones
Stay in routine
You’ve done this for so many years now
No distractions
Don’t look at the broken people next to you
Face forward
A girl at your school killed herself because of the bullying
Study hard
They found a bullet at a high school
No phones
The gun was never found
Wait until the bell rings
A girl was sexually assaulted
No sleeping in class
Keep walking, walking, walking
Don’t look at the stripes lining peoples arms
Stop talking while I’m teaching
Don’t stare at the faint mascara streaks running down her face
Turn to page 34
Stop looking at the boy who is googling how to make a pipe bomb during study hall
Raise your hand
How dare you talk badly about the baseball player who raped you
I’ll give you assigned seats if you don’t stop talking
Don’t worry about the girl who weighs 80 pounds, guidance counselors will take care of her
Did I say you could talk
The girl is threatening to overdose in the school bathroom
What’s the answer to this problem on the board
We are not watching out for our peers
We are not being active enough to make a change
I have woken up too many times from a nightmare of a school shooting
Of a suicide
Of a sexual assault
These are everyday problems
But our schools are deciding to ignore them
Many of us are uncertain of the future
Whether or not we will live to see another day
Either by our own hands or someone else’s
Will we have the strength to continue
To not jump in front of the bullet?
I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t take that opportunity
But the school keeps up moving forward
Keep walking down the narrow halls
Heads up
No distractions
Like cattle
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12/12/2018
'A Sad Christmas' - December 2018 Writing Challenge - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
ive been quiet to long i need to be vocal
need a magic telescope i can see hope thru
while i remain drug free and teetotal
a blade is sumthin i need to be close to
self harmin since bein a teenager
ill never let my dreams fade
people stare at my scarres like there lookin at there favourite screensaver
put my heart in every lyric on each page
i know its as bad as my moms drinkin and brothers drug taking
but when you go home you have a hug watin
i never expected no one to luv me
sumtimes i wish sumone would hug me
they say home is where the heart is
alone is where the dark is
if i had a better childhood would i be able to trust more openly
would i speak my mind without first puttin it in a book of poetry
would i push more hopfully
look for love more vocally
more ups and downs than a light switch
why should i be tight lipped
ive been searchin and not findin
workin and still climbin
i dont need an advocate
this is real talk call me the white fabolous
im cleanin out my closet
like my idol eminem
paintin a paicture u should screen it out and watch it
ill share my views before i give my pen 2 them
they will try and paint me as the bad guy
but aint seen the world thru my eyes
2 months after my dad died
my best friend commited suicide
6 months ago was the last time i self harmed
and it seems like a life time
instead of usin a blade i pick up a pen
and follow my dream of bein a rapper so i write rhymes
behind every dark cloud theres a silver linin
you have to have the will 2 find it
lifes short u need a passion or dream to fill the time in
2 get to the top it may take a while
be strong and dont let anyone break your smile
Once upon a time, there was a girl who had a cat.
He was a long haired siamese, with eyes of aquamarine and strands of silver fur.
Every time the girl was sad, she'd lift her cat's paw and give herself a little scratch to remind herself of her beloved pet.
In this way, the girl would transform her sadness to joy.
With every insult thrown her way came a scratch.
Every loss, every heartbreak, it all went scratch, scratch, scratch.
Through this scratching, she'd turn her pain to dust.
The cat knew this wasn't normal human behavior.
No one else in the house picked up his paws like that.
Just her.
One day the girl came home after a particularly hard day. She'd failed two tests and lost a close friend.
Right away, she approached the cat.
"Take my pain away," she whispered. "Turn it to dust."
And with a scratch, it all was gone.
My lil lady is sorrowful thinking of what she's done
She calls me whimpering wanting to come home
The psychiatric hospital full of its treatments
Still can never understand the deep darkness
I too been there and sometimes find my way back
To a hate of oneself and why feeling good I lack
I wanna hold her and comfort her to be alright
But im only a mother not a doctor in this fight
I try and give her the mental tools I've used
To help her through this hellish self abuse
I explain its roots with addiction from pain
She says she's numb needs comfort again
But her security blanket is dangerous overall
I will forever dread getting one last call
Of those lights she was seeing being a last time
I ever get to hold her and remind her of life
I hate passing on this mental reaction
Mixed up chemicals our brains are lacking
If one thing i can do in life is hold her hand
With my guidance through this terrible storm
I gladly will do my best to be side by side her
In this maze we will help each other find there
A door once popped open leading me out
Im going back in to save my child from doubt
How could she scar herself with cuts?
How could she wish for bad out comes
How could a girl so beautiful feel so insecure?
Scaring herself like she’s a manic
She’s crazy… insane
Just a young girl “what the heck does she know about pain?”
Wishing to die like she’s… yea, she’s suicidal
Poetry conveys love, hate, drama and or conflict
My poems contain things you wish to avoid.
Mother can you understand the pain behind your daughter’s smile?
Can you explain the cuts on her wrist?
Do you know that she cared less about dying the deeper the slit?
Always wearing a jacket
Seriously is it always cold outside?
Her sleeves are never rolled up.
Scared too were her thighs,
These are the things a suicidal girl hides.
How is it you never noticed?
Do you know her goal is to end this?
She’s just not brave enough just yet
But one day she’ll be tired enough to do it
And take her last breath.
Her eyes are full of secrets no one will know
She wears long sleeves so the scars won't show
at first it was by choice but now I can't take control
scars on my wrist as well on on my soul
They had even made their way to my forearm
Not any drug is as addicting as self-harm
The only time I can actually think
Is when I watch my blood go down the sink
though the power to stop is not guaranteed
Doing this is my one chance to feel free
It may seem like I just want to die
But that is the opposite to what this implies
I did my best to prove to you that I exist
I even painted pretty cuts on my wrist
So go ahead,laugh and be mean
Your voices haunt me as I bleed
I smile as if I'm just so amused
So no one suspects me of my abuse
Funny thing is that no one defines
I'm lying every time I say I'm fine
The problem has reach to the extreme
Can't any hear or notice my screams
I never knew the thing that's keeping me alive
Has been secretly killing me this entire time
Please take my razors,the whole pack
And promise you will never give them back
I am the queen of self destruction.
Ritualistic Razor sharp scrutiny of my reflection -
constantly spewing hate at my mid-section,
whilst effortlessly faking the pursuit of perfection.
A crumbled up heart beckons restitution in the midst
of train-wrecked relationships,
ruinous friendships,
and crumbled up to do lists,
in white-knuckled fists.
The essence of happiness remains a mere mirage
for one who is an expert in self-sabotage.
With nothing but empty reminders sprayed out on a dreary collage,
it is exhausting living an ever consuming facade.
Procrastinated plans worship at my feet,
whilst brooding and bellowing as I hit snooze on repeat.
Impatiently my ambitions take a seat,
before wisely declaring undeniable defeat.
Daily my mind’s army assumes a familiar avoidant stance.
Love and hate engage, again, in a repetitive dance,
between an avoidant retreat and a stagnant advance.
It is clear: as long as I sit on the throne of
self-destruction,
for me… for being whole..
there will not be another chance..
Death was too good
Imprisioned in chains
Born to be undone
By rust and the rain
Once more I be slain
My arm’s bleeding
Blood dripping on the floor
I’m weeping
I double check if I closed the damn door
My mother thinks I’m sleeping
So, I better start cleaning
I can’t miss a drop, or she’ll start screaming
Oh hell, my arm’s sore
It’s heating
It’s steaming
The cut is so fresh, it’s pleasing
It hurts, but at least… I’m feeling…
I feel I’m healing
Or am I kneeling to the demon
I sit back and start dreaming
Today was a good day!
I got to class and finished my essay
I met my friends and went to a café
All my struggles sailed away
Who the hell am I kidding!
If I’m okay, why is this poem written?
Why am I willing to give up?
Why my mind’s corrupt?
Hell! My arm’s itching
Ugh, I’m just bit-ching!
What the hell I’ll do will these damn wounds?
Will they become obvious scars?
Will people laugh at my tears?
Oh hell, my arm’s bleeding again
Hell, the sheets are stained
I’ll clean this thing
This cut soothed my pain
This cut messed my brain
This cut drove me insane
This cut is… my cocaine.
My best friend has a beautiful name
She’s magical and disturbing at the same time
You pray for death if you upset her
She stays with me every day
And dances with me every night
She’s with me when I wake up
She’s with me when I go to sleep
Planting the pleasant thought of not waking up in my head
She’s my comfort, she’s my everything,
When something bad happens
She has a superpower
Getting inside my head and turning it all off
Until im numb and stuck with her warm presence
She brings razors to me and makes sure she’s my only friend
All those nice gestures
That bring us closer
Till our heart’s beat the same way and the same blood runs through our veins
My best friend has a beautiful name
A name that’s going to be a part of mine
Writen on a doctor’s paper
My best friend Depression
She’s the only who will stay forever
Huddled crying masses
Bodies fallen to the floor
Here’s the world that she lives in
The world behind closed doors
They each have their secrets
Yet a secret that they all share
The pain of life made manifest
In bruises and pulled hair
And some they have gone farther
Than any one cares to see
Drowning in the river
Of blood that they each have set free
This place it makes them sisters
This place it makes them friends
This place its constant torture
Their problems never end
A common man may glimpse upon
the problems that they face
But never would he journey to
Set foot upon this place
This place where tears are halted
By the slicing of the skin
the place where they're all desperate
Use a razor, needle, pin
No matter what they try and do
We still cannot escape
And others will not reach their hand
For fear that it will break
Depression is the master here
With daily sacrifice
Of blood and anger pouring forth
Self-hate, a deadly vice
Though lonely as they tend to be
The secrets make them one
Together they will over come
This hate before they are done
Yet the blood that they spill wont hurt them
Nor the bruises, Nor the pain
For they are all strong
Their courage far from plain
Yes she knows she is strong enough
To hurt herself again
This most vicious of all cycles
We will never see the end