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Array ( [sid] => 167234 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Cuts [time] => 2011-09-04 00:10:15 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Warm water pouring down on me,
Washing me clean,
Washing away the blood.
I can’t stop myself
I can’t stop the tears.
I hurt.
I’m hurting so badly
I’m crying, wounded, aching
Begging for someone to stop me
Begging for you to come back
Begging for the pain to disappear
For the pain to disappear with each new cut.
Scratch, scratch, scratch,
Up and down and up and down
Blood surfacing
Take the iron, place it on
Flesh burning, fresh burns
Scratch, scratch, scratch
Blood, bleeding, red.
Freedom.
The cuts free me.
I can see them, see the pain.
I can see why it hurts,
I can see what’s bleeding.
I can’t see my heart bleeding
I can’t see why you left
I can’t handle the internal pain
Thus the cuts upon my arm
The large gashes waiting for love to heal them.
Love I don’t have,
Love I can’t find.
Love I don’t know exists.
So the cuts remain, unnoticed, silent, aching
Like my heart.
[comments] => 2 [counter] => 301 [topic] => 72 [informant] => kayroo [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => self-harmpoetry )

Cuts

Contributed by kayroo on Sunday, 4th September 2011 @ 12:10:15 AM in AEST
Topic: self-harmpoetry

Warm water pouring down on me,
Washing me clean,
Washing away the blood.
I can’t stop myself
I can’t stop the tears.
I hurt.
I’m hurting so badly
I’m crying, wounded, aching
Begging for someone to stop me
Begging for you to come back
Begging for the pain to disappear
For the pain to disappear with each new cut.
Scratch, scratch, scratch,
Up and down and up and down
Blood surfacing
Take the iron, place it on
Flesh burning, fresh burns
Scratch, scratch, scratch
Blood, bleeding, red.
Freedom.
The cuts free me.
I can see them, see the pain.
I can see why it hurts,
I can see what’s bleeding.
I can’t see my heart bleeding
I can’t see why you left
I can’t handle the internal pain
Thus the cuts upon my arm
The large gashes waiting for love to heal them.
Love I don’t have,
Love I can’t find.
Love I don’t know exists.
So the cuts remain, unnoticed, silent, aching
Like my heart.

Copyright Â© kayroo ... [ 2011-09-04 00:10:15]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Cuts (User Rating: 1 )
by FlintHunter on Friday, 9th September 2011 @ 05:24:53 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I have an idea of what you are going through. I am a sixty year old man. Once -- years ago -- I knew a girl who cut herself -- it's not an uncommon thing -- sad -- very sad -- but not uncommon. Too darn common. Anyhow she ended up in the hospital -- and that's what made her stop. I still know her. She is my BFF. But she still has the scars from her cuts -- and she doesn't want them -- but it's too late. Don't think that no one cares -- we do -- it's that this subject is taboo; thus you feel alone. Find a self-help group -- something -- confide in a friend. You are lovable. Love yourself. God made you -- and would you harm his creation? --flint

Re: Cuts (User Rating: 1 )
by Mikki on Thursday, 20th October 2011 @ 11:08:41 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I used to cut too.
I stopped, thank goodness.

Please don't do this to yourself... if you are.

Anyway, great poem!!! It's very clear and well expressed. :)

~ Mikki

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