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Art is like CuttingArt is like cutting.

It takes a lot of
Emotion and Motivation
To do it and it makes
You feel alive.

Both can become a hobby, yet,
Both are challenging.

Until they turn into a feeling
And you just do them automatically
To Feel Something.

Till they don't hurt you anymore,
And you do them out of passion.

Scars might fade,
But art saves.

AfraidHave you ever been afraid of yourself?
It's the worst feeling there is
because no matter what you do,
no matter what you try,
you can never escape it
because you're trapped inside yourself,
terrified of what could happen next,
afraid of who you could hurt,
afraid of what you might do.
In dreams, thoughts are only amplified.
In wakefulness, horrors become real.
You tell yourself it cant be real,
tell yourself its not who you truly are.
But it is.
And nothing can change it.

Do You?Every scar tells a story...

A cross for the time I doubted God,
Four down the middle,
Because three was odd.
One for the insults,
And how my heart breaks.
Seven for the time he was ripped away.
Eight for the time you left me alone,
Six for the time,
I lost my home.

My scars talk.
And you listen.
But you don't hear.
You don't hear,
My doubts and fears.
My insecurities and confusion,
They do not exist in your illusion.
I have been ripped away from what I need.
And what I need,
Is to grieve,
And bleed.

My scars tell a story.
I have a reason for what I do.
My scars tell a story.
But you don't hear,
Do you?

Why Do You Do This?Why do you do all of this
You stain your wrists
You cry all the damn time
You slip when you try to climb

You're in all this pain
Putting that blade to a vein
You dig it in, but not too deep
For now, that price is too steep

But will the day eventually come
A day when you are so very numb
That the price isn't too high
And you give up the will to try

God forbid that day should arrive
I want you to be happy and alive
Yet I freak out when you aren't there
Don't make me feel loss and despair

OvercomeThe power of Christ compels you!
Leave me alone!
The power if Christ compels you!
Go back to your godforsaken home!
No! You can't do this!
How are you still here?
Stay in the pentagram!
You're supposed to disappear!
Oh, I understand.
My faith wasn't enough to be strong.
So now I'm here with you,
In Hell where I belong.
I'm supposed to be here,
Or at least that's what you say.
But unlike you,
My faith grows everyday.
God will save me,
That I surely know.
You think I belong here,
But really I should go.
My faith in God, my spirit,
Both you tried to kill.
I know that I'll get out of here.
Someday,
I will.

The Prophets of Impending DoomI'm fighting and hitting,
Something that isn't there.

It has to be!
It's pulling my hair!

Oh wait,
That's me.

Oh no!
Is it true?
How could this be?

I talk to my reflection,
Because my reflection talks back.

My reflection is mean,
It says I'm ugly and fat.

I talk to my reflection,
And I'm never again the same.

Oh no!
Is it true?
Does this mean I'm insane?

People say they hate me,
They wish I was dead.

Everywhere I go,
It's "off with her head!!"

They locked me in this place,
This terrible hellhole of mine.

What they said came true,
I really lost my mind.

Tragic ValentineWhen I look in your eyes,
I see the rest of my life.
I love you,
I do.
And I know you love me too.
A ring on my finger,
And another on yours.
We know each other.
We have no doors.
Even though we're separated,
By six feet of dirt.
The words you whisper,
Still heal my hurt.
The way you exist,
Inside my head,
A figment of the imagination,
Can never be dead.
I am yours,
And you are mine.
I will always love you,
My tragic Valentine.

Red NailsRed nails remind me
I need to die.
Red nails write
Love on my arms.

PillsHere's a pill for my broken heart,
A pill for my body parts,
I can never again call holy.
One for each day where I slowly,
Die again, again, and again.
And then,
A few more for each jail visit,
A handful as an alternative for the razors that used to sit,
On my wrist.
Half a bottle for all of the lies.
A bit more just so I can get by.
The rest for all of the tears and blood shed.
Oops, I'm dead.

SuicideI'm not okay.
I'm not "free."
I'm not the me,
You think to be me.
I'm falling up,
Into a beautiful sky of blood.
All of it's mine,
Leaving my body,
In a torrential flood.
I want to leave,
Pop those pills.
Join Death,
In roaming the rolling hills.
I want my canvas,
Of blood and skin.
I want my body destroyed,
To commit that beautiful sin.
I want the pain,
The poison and death.
I want that exhilaration,
And loss of breath.
I want to die,
And go away.
So I shall take my life,
Today.

The weight of a secrether secret is heavy to wear
Sometimes, she wants to scream
disgust, shame, sorrow

her secret is toxic
her body is contaminated by a feeling of guilt

her secret is a spider's Web
one thing that has devastated her teens

how could she forgotten?
If nobody is listening of her pain

I want to be....I want to be one of those girls
The ones with the three inch gap between their thighs and the stick thin legs.
One of those teenagers
Who you see in the street with their arms all sliced up.
One of those children
Who don't have to count everything.
One of those kids
Who have a boyfriend and are never alone.
One of those students
Who has loads of friends.
One of those people
Who can be just 'Fine'.

But I want to be Normal.

I want to be able to eat.
I want to be able to not cut.
I want to be able to just relax.
I want to be able to not be alone.
I want to be able to make friends.
I want to be just fine.

I'm a MonsterMonsters are inside of me,
Monsters are the size of my jeans.
Monsters will never let me be.
Fighting against me and this thing I am forced to call a body.
Monsters are carbs,
I am the superhero with the power starve.
Monsters are the suspicious people around,
Monsters are the sounds,
Escaping my humongous stomach.
Monsters are horrid objects such as ovens.
Monsters are ugly and fat,
And I am just that.

Broken DoveWill someone please give flight
To this broken dove
Show her happiness
tell her she is loved

Will someone please just help her
Lend her a gentle hand
Raise her in a way
That she can understand

Will someone please just notice
She's broken her small heart
And slowly, every second
her worlds falling apart

She pleads for your forgiveness
She begs you for your love
Please will someone notice
This hollow, dying dove...

The Urge

Sit.
Relax.
Listening to the music.

Look at my legs.
See the scars blaring out.
See the big Butterfly.

Imagination spurs bloody cuts.

Breath quickens.
Energetic rage.

Get the knife.
The need to spill blood is so strong.
But instead…
Burst into tears,
Crying for the monster I've turned into.

Once a happy soul,
Now a clouded one.

When you can’t explain yourself,
And people don’t understand.
When the Plan doesn't work,
And the original resort fails,
What’s there left to turn to?

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Razor

by ~laritda, Jan 6, 2013, 10:00:39 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Sweet little friend,
You are the only one that
Truly understands me.

The only one that
Holds my hand
When I am
Breaking.

The one that listens
When I am upset.
The only one that
Hears me crying.
The one that counsels
Me how to cope with life.

And you're hungry
For more blood.

You are jumping and
Screaming
Ready to be fed.

You love the softness of
My skin, and you promise to
Be gentle when you break
Through the vein.
But you're not strong enough.
You aren't sharp and bold
Like the others.

You're such a frail creature
And now it's your turn
To be disposed.

In the trash,
Where you always belonged.

Razorby ~laritda

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Letting go of cutting addiction.

love 1 1

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Kjey2626 Mar 29, 2013 New member Hobbyist Writer

This is great... It's such a relief that the addiction has come to an end! Hopefully, this will drive others into doing the same, as well it should because it is an amazing piece..
Please feel free to take a look at my poetry; they r all emotional too

`MagicalJoey Jan 17, 2013 Writer

This starts off feeling as if it's going to be another typical 'cutting' poem, but your ending is surprising a great and shows a lot of courage and strength.

~laritda Jan 17, 2013 Student Writer

Thank you. I am glad you liked it.

~isasongs Jan 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This is a really nice poem. It's got a nice chance of emotion to it.
I wish you the best of luck, I don't think I'm able to do what you're doing.

~laritda Jan 17, 2013 Student Writer

Thank you! I am glad you liked it!

~isasongs Jan 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

No problem.
Feel free to check out my work as well.

~pencilxpusher Jan 16, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

The strength you build with the words is quite nice. To quit any addiction, self harm or both is such a strong and courageous thing to do, so I really loved the topic. The flow of words were stuttered which gave it that sort of feeling of wanting to cut but trying to break away, and I thought that was a nice touch. All in all, I very nice piece, even though it is about something not so nice.

~laritda Jan 16, 2013 Student Writer

Thanks you. That is the main idea. That thouch cutting is a terrible addiction, it is important for people to know the depth of internal pain behind it.

~pencilxpusher Jan 16, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

you're welcome

!SMonaghan119 Jan 8, 2013

Dark poem, Sensitive topic, Vivid imagery, the components to a really good piece of writing. Well done.

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