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Array ( [sid] => 135569 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Stains of Life [time] => 2007-06-26 22:35:06 [hometext] => Here, now laid before you, are some thoughts and feelings captured on paper from a moment in time when I was low. [bodytext] =>
Sharpe, round bone,
ripping, tearing at my skin.
Blood trickles,
leaving its mark.
For a sort time,
I feel released.
Physical pain is more bearable,
than any emotion.
Over and over,
blood flows thick.
The essence of life,
my life.
Spilt onto the sheets,
I sleep and dream,
of blood and tears.
Pain cuts through my dream world,
like a thousand knives..
Shook awake, in tears and sweat
I wish to forget,
to make it go away,
make it stop.
But it wont!
The glass doesn’t cut deep,
the bone only scrapes the surface.
I lie awake and cry,
for a better day to come.
To try and be hopeful,
while my heart beats like a drum.
Facing the mirror,
disgusted by what I see,
red covers my body,
scars, hiding the true me.
Blue veins show,
beneath milky white skin,
just enough room
to sink a knife in.
And watch, as my life,
stains my breasts red.
The lie down in peace,
Alone, at last, on my bed.
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 270 [topic] => 72 [informant] => Thespia [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => self-harmpoetry )

The Stains of Life

Contributed by Thespia on Tuesday, 26th June 2007 @ 10:35:06 PM in AEST
Topic: self-harmpoetry

Sharpe, round bone,
ripping, tearing at my skin.
Blood trickles,
leaving its mark.
For a sort time,
I feel released.
Physical pain is more bearable,
than any emotion.
Over and over,
blood flows thick.
The essence of life,
my life.
Spilt onto the sheets,
I sleep and dream,
of blood and tears.
Pain cuts through my dream world,
like a thousand knives..
Shook awake, in tears and sweat
I wish to forget,
to make it go away,
make it stop.
But it wont!
The glass doesn’t cut deep,
the bone only scrapes the surface.
I lie awake and cry,
for a better day to come.
To try and be hopeful,
while my heart beats like a drum.
Facing the mirror,
disgusted by what I see,
red covers my body,
scars, hiding the true me.
Blue veins show,
beneath milky white skin,
just enough room
to sink a knife in.
And watch, as my life,
stains my breasts red.
The lie down in peace,
Alone, at last, on my bed.

Copyright Â© Thespia ... [ 2007-06-26 22:35:06]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Stains of Life (User Rating: 1 )
by needledancing on Sunday, 1st July 2007 @ 01:18:39 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

We do have days of being hard on ourselves.This piece is a deep reflection on how our sadness can bring us to not appreciating the wonder of how truly precious we all are. Love comes to each and every one of us.....we are reminded of being patient on these our bluest days.Sending you hugs and loving thoughts for the wonderful soul that you are.

Re: The Stains of Life (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Friday, 6th July 2007 @ 12:14:40 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Oh my ... what a sad and torturous write, Thespia. But there is so
much in here that others can see and relate to, if only to not feel
SO damn alone.

I'm glad that this was but a moment in time. But damn, how they
grip us, no? It's great that you were able to vent some of those
insidious emotions unto paper and in a sense, release their
hold on you. Your descriptions are brilliant, my friend!

Well done.

~Breezy

Re: The Stains of Life (User Rating: 1 )
by fuzzler on Tuesday, 3rd August 2010 @ 03:41:56 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

The pain of emotion.....

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