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Array
(
[sid] => 88535
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Broken
[time] => 2005-03-24 00:06:38
[hometext] => This poem is about how my entire life in fact is nothing but broken, I'm broken, I'm defected, and so is my life.
[bodytext] => Once again I lie lifeless, On the cold, hard floor. Watching in utter awe, While my red blood pours. Through the tears I crack a smile, And look at the mess I've made. I'm alone in the darkness, Cuddling with my blade. I thank it for the freedom, But I scold it for this life. Pondering once more, If I again should use the knife. Once just isn't enough anymore, Twice? Maybe triple? I'm sinking in the luke warm water, Watching the fresh blood ripple. The tears flow more easily, Flowing in tandum with my blood. Rushing out the toxins, While causing a poisionous flood. I can feel the dangers, Course through my vein. That's why I use the blade, It rids me of my pain. You can read hundreds of my poems, Still you wont understand. What freedom I seem to feel, When I'm bleeding by my own hand. The adrenaline pumps, As my mind goes blank. It's not God I owe this to, It's Satan I need to thank. My heart beat slows it's race, As my lungs begin to fall. I feel my body start to stop, It wont be long at all. Everytime I cut, I slice away a peice of my soul. All the puzzle peices have gone missing, Causing me to lose control. My addiction's gone too far, The knife has gone too deep. Faster and faster im falling under, Drifting away into eternal sleep. How many will miss me? How many will be glad im gone? Who will say it is too soon? Who will say what took her so long? Please don't cry for me, I know I'm not worth your tears. Dont feel bad you couldn't help me, All throught my broken years. This life isn't precious, It's twisted and sad. Nobody forewarned me, It would ever be this bad. I wish I could rewind it all, Go back through my life. Find out when it turned to night, And stop myself from using the knife. Maybe I cant stop it, Maybe there wasn't a day. Maybe I was born with this, And I've always been this way. It saddens me to think, And it kills me just to know. To look at all the smiles around me, And tell myself I have to go. A part of me holds on, In hope they'll find a cure. Another part of me wants to die, Satan has an unpromising lure. The world works in mysterious ways, But what does it have in store for me? Am I meant to life misreable Is this how it's meant to be? [comments] => 5 [counter] => 191 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Pats4eva7 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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