Head pounding, his words repeated in my head like a broken record
my mind and i
are at a game of hide and seek
only i think i've gotten the rules wrong
i am both
the hider
and the seeker
the hider says”if you don’t kill yourself the seeker will”
forever searching for her
but terrified of being seen
Every time i am down and depressed,
My hand pickes up the razor,
As I stared at the razor blade inside that shelf, so satisfying. The bright lights in that bathroom casted my stare over the silver blade. My mind continues to say, "This may be the last time, if you finally cut deep enough."
So I try my best not to make a sound
Heart pounding,My mind fills with thoughts like a marry go around-I am so confused,
what to do next? Do I spare myself another day? Is that the easy way out or is it just my thoughts on that marry go round?
I just dont know what to do!
"If you don’t do it now then you’ll never do it for yourself." These words repeated in my head and just like that the sound of little feet come running down the hall and out the bathroom I go.
We'll have to start over
Because we no longer exist,
I'm in LOVE and in PAIN with that razor blade
There is a line that separates reality from your desire
Cutting a path through the gray of confusion; a razor blade
Sharp and precise; the only tool for such a task
For a moment, desire bleeds through -you welcome the taste
But in the end, nothing keeps reality from crossing that same line
Not even a razor blade
Put upon a pedestal thin as a razor blade
where you must balance precariously
for the higher it’s raised the longer the fall
It’s simpler to say and do nothing at all
It’s far too risky to care
to put yourself out there
You slipped once before
perhaps you were pushed
It left a nasty scar
which is quite a coincidence
You’ve never been the same since
as when a child’s innocence
has been stolen away
Wisdom is won by such wounds
but much can be lost too
We are all simply people who
eat, drink, piss, sh*t and screw
until we come to our inevitable end
A few are fortunate and do it
in penthouses, mansions
fancy flats in exclusive sections of cities
sleeping on satin sheets
while some must settle for a single room
a shack or the streets
At least in one respect they’re luckier than you
The world doesn’t give a damn what they do
She couldn’t see her pretty
When she peered into the mirror
Dark mascara, sad face
in the corner of her eye a tear
Her heart undiscovered
For her no one cheered
Black clothes pale complexion
She was encased in her weird
No daddy to kiss her
He didn’t choose to stay
She thought if she was perfect
He wouldn’t have gone away
A Razor Blade Princess
Red lines on her wrist
Nothing else made her feel real
The pain was her bliss
There were boys who used her
Pretending with their kiss
She gave of her body
To Bobby, Bill and Chris
Then one evening
The Princess cut to deep
A Royal Red River
Ushered her off to sleep
All the kids who knew her
now say they were friends
I guess it’s a way to cope
Everyone just pretends
Now another girl stares
At her reflection in the mirror
Yes plain can be pretty
When people know you’re here
I fell into a pit, dirty grave,
lined entirely with razor blades,
that should sting when they slice
my newspaper skin that bleeds only grey,
but pain, there is none, never have I felt so numb
and never have I thought so much
as when I was lain in a rotted blank sap and rusted sharp metal.
As they filled up my grave with dead leaves and stale bubblegum
all I did was stare, at the stars and the moon, and I wondered why,
everyone always saw them as companions in the night sky,
when all of their songs were sung millions of miles apart
and I pondered why no one else ever questioned
the beat of their own heart and why only my head is the one who rains in red.
And when my tomb was almost closed, my thoughts were disrupted,
out rang screams, that sounded like mine but my mouth was stuck shut.
As the hole sealed and smothered my lungs,
the screams, they crescendoed, they carried on
even when my conscious was all but gone
its earsplitting screech went beyond what was left and stayed.
An eternity, it rings, a migraine for my soul that sits in its grave.
A thin sharp edge
To balance on
Hopes
Split wide open
Please
Watch your step
In to the future
Walking on eggs
So much easier
Dodging so many evil bullets
Whew!
Another very close shave
Another very long day
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
Razor blade
Cut me deep
Take me form this hell
My hands are shaking
My tears fall like rain
In my soul I know all I feel is pain
As the razor blade cuts my skin
I say "And now you will never win"
Please let it free me from this life
Life I did not want to live
Even your love could not save me
I lay here in this dark room
Knowing this will be my tomb
As I feel the cold blood dripping down my arm
I sit here and I think of how much you love me
How we always said "It was meant to be"
I lay here calmly feeling my stone heart slowing down
My eyes lose focus; I'm starting to go blind
Everything is racing in my mind
My breathing is stopping
Everything goes blank
I am dead
Finally free
My life closed in on me
Now nothing is sore
I'm just sorry I didn't love you anymore
So what am I supposed to do?
Just freeze in the dark, waiting for you?
Watching flying children, swim across the park
Waking up on the other side of the dark
At least it was something
Or was it all for nothing?
If I could show you what I mean
If I could explain these feelings
I've lived for this long, I don't know how
So many times I've tried, it's too much now
So what do you expect of me now?
When you want the world to stop
Go away, go away from me
Just leave me alone, can't breath
Time passes by and still I try
But I can never make it to the end
I just want you to leave me alone
Go away, I just want you to leave me alone
A beautiful mind with the cuts and scars
It's kind of hard when you don't
Know who you are
Now I realize what I have done wrong
I am scared for all that I have done wrong
I probably made myself cry
I think I did
I'm not sorry
Written August 8, 2005
im gonna paint a picture,
a picture with a twist.
im gonna paint a picture,
i'll paint it on my wrist.
and if i paint this picture right,
a fountain will appear.
and then one day,
all my troubles will disapear.
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