deepundergroundpoetry.com
Betrayer or Savior?
Into the night, run from your anger,
hide your tears and control your pain.
Grab your savior.
The handle gleams in the night, the edges sharp as possible.
Cut out the pain, their words of hurt
bleed out the wounds of their glares, leave your own scars.
Take out all the badness, go across your skin,
bleed it out, let it wash away you sin.
Their hatred of you, burns your eyes
tears flow, with no end in sight.
You worship your blade, it shows you love,
it kisses your skin, it teaches your worth.
As it slides you control the pressure.
As it goes it controls the speed.
The blade is your lover, meeting in stolen moments,
then the intimate strokes take your breath away.
It releases your hurt, takes the disgust away.
As it kisses you privatly, the world begins to sway.
The blade turned against you, just like the others.
It went too fast, too hard, your breath is being smothered.
The world turns blacker, you begin to fade.
Then the peace comes, and you smile for the first time today.
The betrayer is your savior, it delivered a death kiss.
That final kiss was what you desired, unknowingly though.
The blade saved your sanity by taking your life.
Its painted red now, its the last thing you see.
As you drift off to sleep,
blood pours off the blade,
it bids you a farewell,
then it silently weeps.
hide your tears and control your pain.
Grab your savior.
The handle gleams in the night, the edges sharp as possible.
Cut out the pain, their words of hurt
bleed out the wounds of their glares, leave your own scars.
Take out all the badness, go across your skin,
bleed it out, let it wash away you sin.
Their hatred of you, burns your eyes
tears flow, with no end in sight.
You worship your blade, it shows you love,
it kisses your skin, it teaches your worth.
As it slides you control the pressure.
As it goes it controls the speed.
The blade is your lover, meeting in stolen moments,
then the intimate strokes take your breath away.
It releases your hurt, takes the disgust away.
As it kisses you privatly, the world begins to sway.
The blade turned against you, just like the others.
It went too fast, too hard, your breath is being smothered.
The world turns blacker, you begin to fade.
Then the peace comes, and you smile for the first time today.
The betrayer is your savior, it delivered a death kiss.
That final kiss was what you desired, unknowingly though.
The blade saved your sanity by taking your life.
Its painted red now, its the last thing you see.
As you drift off to sleep,
blood pours off the blade,
it bids you a farewell,
then it silently weeps.
Published 6th May 2011
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6th May 2011 11:32pm
See, this is a good poem about cutting/suicide. I particularly liked "The blade turned against you, just like the others" and "then it silently weeps." I also liked the slight indentation going back and forth for each few lines, sort of creating pseudo-stanzas without line breaks. One thing I noticed was the use of the word "badness", it sort of sticks out as a somewhat childish word amidst the more eloquent words and phrases used. Perhaps change it to something more persuasive? (oh, and typo: "privately")
6th May 2011 11:48pm
7th May 2011 2:40am
I like the way that you gave the blade life in this poem. This is definitely a unique poem.
10th Aug 2011 10:57am
I liked it as far as suicidal poems go
few edits though :
let it wash away you'r' sin.
As it kisses you privat'e'ly, It's painted red now, it's the last thing you see.
Good luck in future writes.
few edits though :
let it wash away you'r' sin.
As it kisses you privat'e'ly, It's painted red now, it's the last thing you see.
Good luck in future writes.
