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Array
(
[sid] => 75304
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Salvation's Death
[time] => 2004-12-11 11:54:11
[hometext] => This is a poem about a cutter who becomes addicted to her act but finally sets herself free...
[bodytext] => Salvation's Doom Sitting in the room Wallowing pitifully with her soul alone and abandoned tormented, watching the blood drip into the bowl The first cut was made so slow, so deep then she watched as the crimson came through her skin it did seep As her dark bitter red blood So is her life tainted with sins that shred her to cleanse herself she resorted to a knife When she first started it was only going to be that time She was just going to free herself The act so rightfully sublime But the memories did not go with the blood nor did they with the tears the screams, the cries in the dead of night never managed to get rid of her fears She knew not where else to turn so she went again to the blade time and yet again gazing at the color's shade It became a habit then an addiction What she had once turned to for salvation Now had her wishing this life was fiction She could take no more so on one night she went a last time to the sharp glinting edge she no longer could take the internal fight The body still warm The slits still wet She was finally free in her death [comments] => 3 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 32 [informant] => SpeedXDemon [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => SadPoetry )
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