Long Selfharm Poems
Long Selfharm Poems. Below are the most popular long Selfharm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Selfharm poems by poem length and keyword.
I’ve never quite managed to fit in. I can sculpt multiple different masks from wax or clay, put them on and try to make my way but the truth is I am the gaps between the wood of the pier, the drawer that doesn’t fit quite right in your dresser.
I dance between the lines, a tightrope that can only be accessed by those that don’t feel entirely human.
My entire life, I have felt displaced. Nothing really feels real. Including myself. Maybe that’s just how it is. Life is a constant battle.
The feeling of being alien isn’t new to me. Feeling disconnected from my own humanity, wondering if I was a changeling because I’ve always felt so different to the rest.
I cry for help over and over but people stare at me blankly, eyes glossy like they’re not even living, like I do not speak the language they do even though I know that everything I say they could understand if they just listened.
Staring at the scars on my skin from where a blade, hastily freed from the casing that gave it purpose, kissed my flesh and made it bloom with red. It’s like there’s a fuzzy filter between myself and the pain. Like my brain refuses to acknowledge that they are self inflicted and instead chooses to believe they are just a part of my design.
The filter only goes away when I’m in the one place I really feel I belong. The people that make me feel less alien, maybe because their presence transports me to a world where everyone else is “alien” too.
So yeah, maybe I don’t belong anywhere but in a cluster of stars, surrounded by life so bright and full that warmth envelops me every which way I turn. And maybe that’s okay.
Form:
Some say destruction is a form of creation.
But what did I create while destroying my body?
What was created while I was chipping away at my skin, slice by slice?
It's not until you step back and stop the destruction
that you realize you created resilience.
Even though the destructive thoughts
souround your essence in a thick fog of darkness,
hellbent on destroying everything in its path...
Destruction is a form of creation.
And every time you fight your way out of that fog,
you're destroying the clawing urges bit by bit—
and creating a resilience against the very destruction
you thought would be your end.
Destruction is a form of creation.
So create a victorious mind.
A ringing in my ears it is all that I can hear
I see the sharpener looking at me
It beckons to follow for it is just like me
"Come here" it says but I will shake my head
"I will not, I can not" I scream but the voice in my head gets louder and louder
Each second it roars and I tell it I will not listen anymore
But I know this is a lie because I will never get to tell that voice goodbye
The voice is there it tells me it will be okay when I can't even imagine seeing another day
The pain in the body quiets the pain in the mind they say but I just want to know when I will be okay
How can I love myself when I'd trade this dumb body with anyone else
So once again I will listen to the thoughts of my own
I will pick up the sharpener
I will take out the blade
And I will do this for as long as I need because inside that loud voice will always
be the one to lead
That voice in my head, it wants me dead
Having a run, but not in hand,
Excited for I know my prize is grand.
It’s time to draw, but not from the deck,
I drew too much, now my figure’s a wreck.
Making lines, my soul further in debts,
I add more lines, I like placing bets.
Instead of pounds, I use my own,
A little more cautious, now down to the bones.
A little on edge, for my cover mustn’t be blown,
Acting as stoic as possible,
Expression like stone.
I try and do my best bluff,
But maybe I didn’t try hard enough.
I might tap-out, for luck’s not in my favour,
My turn is overdue, I should’ve signed that waiver.
Knowing if I lose, the cost will be major,
But I’m not too scared,
For my life is something I often wager.
I look down now
And I can just barely see
The thin, pale white lines
From the girl I used to be
The girl who’s not so far gone
Not as dead as you think
But instead of watching skin bleed
She now just puts it in ink
As the clock ticked faster
The calendar pages flipped
More and more time passed
And the scars started to slip
You hear that she’s clean
She has been for years
6 months, one year, two?
If only it were that clear.
If only she could say she’s better
And no urge lingers in her head
It’s a part of her now, she won’t escape it
At least, not until she’s dead.
She’ll spend her whole life chasing
That high that she once knew
And because she can’t do it herself
There’s no danger she won’t pursue.
She’d climb the tallest mountains
With little fear of fall
Because if she took a plunder
She’d be at peace, after all.
To her, it doesn’t count
Grabbing lamps and hot glue
Burning isn't cutting
It’s an accident, too.
She yelps and she complains
Griping about the burn
When really what it feels like
Is a quick, quiet return.
Every now and then
Her skin feels an itch
A jittery, gaping feeling
Longing to be stitched.
She’ll resist it best she can
Deny it till it’s true
But still, she’ll never cease to long
For the feeling she always knew.
i done it again after months of resisting it
a tear fell as i picked it up, knowing i would regret it the next morning
i held the pin as my trembling hands tried to work the lighter
i closed my eyes
as i held the hot metal against my skin
it felt like a relief
distracting me
from the thoughts i try so hard to get away from
the next morning i wake and panic as my mum walks in the door, rushing to cover my arm that still stings from the night before
i look down at what i’ve done to myself and instantly regret it
the following night i’ll pick it up and do it again,
knowing it’s bad and not a good way to cope i watch as my skin turns red as my eyes fill with tears and the pain goes through my body
its weird though
because most people would scream at that pain but to me it makes me feel relieved
and maybe on day i’ll find a way to stop
My enemy is...myself. Why? because at 8 i look in the mirror and smile, fascinated at my own face but now i look and see myself with hate.
I see my mind as the threat, the voice in my head was lurking, and it WASN'T kind.
I see my scars as a prison, people say to draw stars but all i see are metal bars burned in my arms.
I see my identity as an ugly mask, having to hide as if it was a normal task.
I see my future like a curse, knowing it will get worse. all i want is to reverse.
i see people as a fear, feeling like i'm being threatened with a spear every time they are near.
But i see the child i used to be, standing right in front of me, asking me "can you hear me?", but i block it out, as i begin to walk.
selfharm. "the action in which an individual intentionally harms their own body on purpose. also known as, 'non-suicidal self injury'." jeez, why would anyone even do that? i mean....i get why but...i can barely even handle a papercut. god im getting shivers even thinking about doing that to myself. i dont like getting hurt. i would NEVER do that.
i did it. only once....or twice...okay maybe a few more than that. my head was just getting too loud and i found some websites online and a lot of people were saying it helps and it makes them feel better so i wanted to try it out. it wasnt bad or anything i only did it a little bit. i mean, its not like its drugs. yeah. i could be on drugs or alcohol or whatever else is bad for you but its just this. i dont think my mom would be too mad if she found out, its not like its an addiction. i can stop whenever i want.
i cant stop. i cant i cant i cant i cant everytime i try it feels like theres bugs crawling under my skin and the only way it stops is if i give them a way out. if i cut. its so stupid god im an idiot. i hate doing it now. it feels...euphoric in the moment. but after, it feels like i crash and realize how stupid it was for me to even start. how do i even tell anyone? will anyone take me seriously? ive read so many forums and everyone just....expects teen girls to selfharm. it feels so normalized i feel like if i told anyone theyd tell me its whatever, every teenager does it. i dont want to be every teenager anymore.
im scared of myself. i wish i never started. i wish it was taken more seriously. if i was on drugs, theyd send me to a rehab center or to the hospital. why....why when its this its different? i just get looked at like im a sick teenage girl yet no one helps. they just take away the blades. tell me not to do it. why does everyone think that helps? i dont think ill ever be taken seriously. my mom cant even look at me, let alone help me. god...what have i done? this is ruining my life, its killing me. teenage addiction will never be taken seriously until it kills