Short Self Harm Poems
Short Self Harm Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Self Harm by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Self Harm by length and keyword.
A bill from the hospital that saved his life
Took it with a self-harm artery slice.
I wish money flowed free like blood.
PORCELAIN SKIN
STAINED
RUNS BRIGHT RED
COVERS A SILENT SCREAM
GHOSTS TRICKLE OUT
BLEED ONTO YOU
RUNS OUT OF ME
LIKE EXORCISM
FOR AWHILE
ALL IS WELL.
no life you want mine
never to feel your self-harm
try and steal my smile
facial features black blue
you can’t steal away my glow.
© Harry J Horsman 2019
Darkness closes in on me suffocating me
Thoughts of self-harm and death are always on my mind
Nightmares and day-mares never seem to cease
Always there reminding me that it wasn't meant to be
Form:
I let my heart do the talking,
Instead of listening to my mind
And that led me to
Nights filled with crying,
And hatred,
Drugs,
As well as self harm
But the worst thing I've done
Is keeping you close to my heart.
Fear not, brilliant one.
Freedom shall be reaped
off burdens of broken hearts
where tears voluntarily appear,
as joy comes in the morning
when troubles escape, my dear.
Bite Size Poem no. 46
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Thorns surround the flower to protect its charm and beauty
From the plucker's hands to ensure its safety and security,
The black plucker breaks rules being careful of self harm
And gets ready to foul and harm the flower falling in doom.
I matter less because I'm matterless
I'll sink my teeth into your skin
And with the milkweed's kiss
We will live through it all again
With anger in my veins
And love in my blood
I slit the pathway for my friends,
Watch them escape one by one
I may be an Emo
Although I've never been in to self harm
Other than eating and drinking a little too much on occasions
When I was 18
A bunch of my friends ambushed me
Put makeup all over my face
Planted the seed
Likely
So a late starter
Emo at 53
These scars on my limbs,
And red cracks in my eyes.
The pieces of skin missing on my hands,
All a result of petty lies.
Their words cut deeper than my fingernails,
Like swords on fire.
Then they pretend it was an accident,
And people call me a liar.
Form:
I AM BEYOND ME
BLIND AND COWERING
GASPING FOR AIR
EYES FOGGY
MY THROAT
FULL OF GLASS
I REACH OUT
FOR YOU
SHINY AND SHARP
ERASE ME
I SLINK AWAY
INTO THE NIGHT
THE BLEAK DARK
CALLS OUT TO ME
PULSATING WAVES
ENGULF ME
FLOOD MY BODY
WITH THE SHAME.
Is it really worth it?
Self harm everyday
Cutting she admits
She always feels the same way
Suicide she tried to commit
Don't do it he'd say
She did submit
She did die that way
She did commit
He'd ask and say
Is it really worth it?
By doing self harm every hour, week, and day
AH THE STING OF PAIN
IS BLISS
PURE AND SPLENDID
I OPEN UP
FOR THE RELEASE
THE BLOOD DRIPS AWAY
MY FEAR, MY SADNESS
I CARVE MY PAIN
UPON MY BODY
TO FREE MY SOUL
OF YOU
I AM IN CONTROL
OF ONLY THIS
I RISE ABOVE YOU
WITH MY HANDS
I TAKE THE BLAME
UPON MYSELF
THIS IS THE LAST RESORT.
So she just pushes up her glasses,
And tucks back a piece of hair.
She puts her bloody hands underneath the desk,
And straightens up in her chair.
She has to be there for her friends,
And of course, she knows.
Her feelings aren't those that matter,
She must fight bother her own and others' foes.
Form:
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.
They pulled her body from the sea,in the afterlife she wanted to be,no worrys,no cares,no hunger,no pain,no more addiction,injected into those veins..A sigh of relief,a feeling of calm,no more walking the streets,no feeling of self harm..The needles,the knives,no punches,no strife,all gone in a second somebodys wife..
I sat under a cedar tree,
Listening to the snow fall softly as it melted
The birds, many different kinds
Singing to each other.
The freeway roared softly but was interrupting
Flirting fleeting tweets of the robins.
I cried gently to myself thinking, how beautiful
the soft white snow was when it could be red
As the room closes in,
my heart begins to pound,
body begins to shiver.
With every cut,
a story told,
in crimson lines
emotions unfold.
But in the darkness,
there's a light,
a glimmer of hope,
shining bright.
For within the scars,
resilience lies.
To those who are hurting,
I hear you,
I see you.
I cut in the morning, in the shower
Where it shows on my arm
If my sleeve rides up.
People see how hard it gets.
I stop the whirlwind inside.
Slice open the bellowing madness.
Cut into hurt too deep to allow.
Stab at dark thoughts that circle and gather.
Self-Surgery.
Takes away pain.
Restores balance and a healthy mind.
the lonley nights in my room
trying to forget my name
loosing touch, loosing hope
no one really knows my pain
im breathing but im dead
why do i have to exist at this moment?
i don't need to die, but why try?
im lying here in my bed suicide and self harm on my mind...
craving the satisfaction of the blade....
WHY WAS I MADE THIS WAY??
You chase rainbows only to find storms.
You forget that life is about journeys and not destinations.
That life is about freedom to explore.
I hope I learn soon.
Loneliness creates illusions.
Illusions create doubts.
Doubts create unstable relationships.
Unstable relationships creates blame.
Blame creates self-harm
And self-harm creates loneliness.
She smiles when she's out,
Says her favorite colour is blue.
"it reminds me of the sea,"
"its the colour of my shoe"
Then she says its purple,
"its a beautiful colour,"
"imagine the pretty flowers"
They'd look like no other"
Then her sleeve slips up her arm,
revealing from where she bled,
and its in that very moment,
We see her favourite colour is red.
I see the lines, I trace the skin,
I swear this time won’t start again.
The pain fades fast, but not for long,
The ache remains, the pull too strong.
I see the lines, I hide them well,
A silent scream, A private hell.
If only I could yell,
Help,
But if I reach, if I let go,
Maybe someone else will know.
Maybe, It's my time to go
I guess we’ll never know…
Ive been there all the way,
You've thrown it all back in my face,
You've hurt me to the point tears wont fall when joy is at stage,
I dont knoe what your trying to persend to me,
I shiver and tingle shrugging my head down as trails of liquid are left of relection laying as a
feather,
Feeling to self harm eventhough knowing what others go through,
This is just the begining,
Form:
I realize then, that my entire emotional existence embodies contradiction. I profess how you’ve wounded me but haven’t I presented you with your weapon and placed your finger on the trigger? “You hurt me! Again, you’ve maimed me!” but I held the target still on my chest for you. How can I cry out in pain, broken and bleeding but return the knife to you with the blade still aiming at me?