Selfharm Poems - Poems about Selfharm

Blood falling Down Down Down Onto the little glass shard of my dads broken shot glass I don’t know why I do it. I never have real answer when people ask.. “To forget” “To punish” “To feel better..” Those are the most common answers.. But I had a reason that...

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“You’re welcome.” The words ring through my head. The words I knew were soon to come. My eyes fill with dread. I knew he would see through my lies. I knew that he would talk to my father. After countless cries, I seemed to not be bothered. Nothing can stop me. The sting makes me feel alive, It brings me back to reality. I’ll talk to...

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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...

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Dibujo estrellas En mi piel como en el papel. Para el alma vieja y dulce, Eso no fue más allá del verano de quinto grado. Para el falso hijo de gran espíritu, Eso me destruyó para su propio disfrute, Cuando ellos eran realmente los que estaban siendo Destruido detrás de las puertas. No dibujo un círculo ni un cuadrado Dibujo estrellas. ...

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It’s deathly cold. The walls are blank The air is so thick that you could take a blade to it as you would a cake and serve it to people at a birthday. But of course, I have no birthday. I don’t know how I was born,...

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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...

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Are the feelings meant to subside now you have gone? What if I still lay petrified in my bed? Is it supposed to get easier as time goes on? Cos I still carve your initials in lines of red I don't want to feel you anymore. As I hear you creep. I want to be done fighting this war, That I fight...

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It was one of those nights, Nights where I look at my blood stained blades And observe the art of life that I've sculpted on my body. As i look into the mirror I think of how beautiful all of this is - The pain, the scars, the dripping scarlet on my arms. Each mark is a part of my...

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She never got spoon-fed and started licking off the knives But knives cut her tongue Her home is in the white spaces but not the words You claim to know the flower, but do you know its pollen grains? "You are fit so get over it", they said "Don't be a drama queen", they said But are they aware of her...

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Slit, slit slit, easy flick of the wrist, Seep down deep where metal and skin meet In my dreams it's never what it seems "Get over it, quit throwing a fit", they say confused never knowing what it's like to be used Pick, pick pick at the emotions 'til they're slick with sick devotions Fight, fight, fight in the middle of the night Sweat pouring down my face My...

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i like seeing the blood When i cut my leg, i like to see the Red flowing out of me. It proves that i am real That i am alive That i am here. That's why i like to cut It's not just for control. Its proof that i am human...

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It wraps around me like a blanket The only difference is it makes me colder Correction, it's the cold one I grab my canvas and paintbrushes I slowly start to make strokes onto the canvas One stroke Two strokes Five strokes Ten strokes Twenty strokes With each stroke, I push a little bit harder The embrace slowly fades I keep painting as the paint pools into...

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