deepundergroundpoetry.com
THE BLADE
Your shrieks cuts through my heart like a sharp piece of a double-edged steel.Your oozing wounds and the leak on your scars recites a horrific tale of unbearable agony and pain that the sum of all tears you shed through the years and all the tears you yet to,can never capture.
The sun has drowned,paving way for the demons that terrorize your soul when the light goes out;It is another night,just like the other night and the other previous previous…nights.At the comfort of the stained bathroom floor,you sited cutting deeper and deeper and deeper on every staring vein,each time hoping that this time,this time you have sliced it right.
Watching you lay there so helpless makes me feel so hopeless.I long to shield you from you,I long to comfort and protect you from every sinister voice and secret memory haunting you,I long to give you a sip of my gospel,a drink from my river,hoping that my brightly lit present will give you a glimpse into my dark past and that somehow that would make you well, healed, whole ...ease away your pain so you never have to cut again.
But I understand it does not work that way.Sadly,there is hardly anything I can do,at least not tonight.As cruel as this may sound,this is your battle. A battle that only you,through your mind and might,your spirit,through will and determination can win.
I know your heart is as cold as an iced stone and numb as a corpse.I understand your wrists,your thighs,your body is the map and the blade is the compass;A combination that opens the highway to a paradise of sweet sensation and sweet release that liberates your broken spirit from the conflicting emotions and feelings that competes with the demons screaming your head off.Believe me,I understand,I been there.
Hell!I still find me staring at that door so many times.
This is why I need you to take it from someone who owns more scars and cuts than you have registered.Am clean for 499 days today,been work in progress,why lie!First time I ditched the razor,I relapsed only after 7 days!
I started the countdown again and again and again,until finally i got into rhythm and ah,over the past one year of struggling and battling,I realized one thing;We are stronger than the dreariest darkness and the pangs of hell calling out to our embrace.
We are stronger than the craving to cut,than the craving of that familiar scent of blood!
I know you try so many times to fight the urge when the memories of childhood trauma, grief, assault, abuse, rejection, betrayal(Whatever it is that drives you to cut)knocks,and also i know that you hate what you have become; The stares,the questions,those invoices after a visit to the ER making you wonder why they let you live every time…But I also understand that it is the idea of becoming (ab)normal that scares you the most.When you hold the blade against your skin,that Is when madness makes sense.
When the gushing of your blood,overtakes the stitches of your heart beat,i know that is the moment when you most sane!
“Mmmmhhhh Mmmhh” The soft whispers you murmuring tells me you halfway to hades and as I watch you drift away,getting more settled and peaceful with every fading breath,I am overwhelmed by nostalgia for a place so familiar!Like a recovering addict inhaling the powerful intoxicating smell of opium from a distance, I want a taste.
But then I remember more powerful words that a stranger once said to me “You are stronger than any pain!”
So instead,I will fall on my knees and pray to the Good Lord above that you make it through the night,hopefully,you will read this letter tomorrow night,and every other night after that night;When the curtain falls and those voices start to scream, enticing you to bury your own life when you still so young, when you haven’t yet lived!Until the day you will be on your 499th day and it will be your fingers on the keypad pouring your heart out to another mate.
You are stronger than the totality of all those broken pieces of your life and your being that only becomes whole when you slice your skin with that blade.
You are stronger than the blade.
...................GOODNIGHT...................................
The sun has drowned,paving way for the demons that terrorize your soul when the light goes out;It is another night,just like the other night and the other previous previous…nights.At the comfort of the stained bathroom floor,you sited cutting deeper and deeper and deeper on every staring vein,each time hoping that this time,this time you have sliced it right.
Watching you lay there so helpless makes me feel so hopeless.I long to shield you from you,I long to comfort and protect you from every sinister voice and secret memory haunting you,I long to give you a sip of my gospel,a drink from my river,hoping that my brightly lit present will give you a glimpse into my dark past and that somehow that would make you well, healed, whole ...ease away your pain so you never have to cut again.
But I understand it does not work that way.Sadly,there is hardly anything I can do,at least not tonight.As cruel as this may sound,this is your battle. A battle that only you,through your mind and might,your spirit,through will and determination can win.
I know your heart is as cold as an iced stone and numb as a corpse.I understand your wrists,your thighs,your body is the map and the blade is the compass;A combination that opens the highway to a paradise of sweet sensation and sweet release that liberates your broken spirit from the conflicting emotions and feelings that competes with the demons screaming your head off.Believe me,I understand,I been there.
Hell!I still find me staring at that door so many times.
This is why I need you to take it from someone who owns more scars and cuts than you have registered.Am clean for 499 days today,been work in progress,why lie!First time I ditched the razor,I relapsed only after 7 days!
I started the countdown again and again and again,until finally i got into rhythm and ah,over the past one year of struggling and battling,I realized one thing;We are stronger than the dreariest darkness and the pangs of hell calling out to our embrace.
We are stronger than the craving to cut,than the craving of that familiar scent of blood!
I know you try so many times to fight the urge when the memories of childhood trauma, grief, assault, abuse, rejection, betrayal(Whatever it is that drives you to cut)knocks,and also i know that you hate what you have become; The stares,the questions,those invoices after a visit to the ER making you wonder why they let you live every time…But I also understand that it is the idea of becoming (ab)normal that scares you the most.When you hold the blade against your skin,that Is when madness makes sense.
When the gushing of your blood,overtakes the stitches of your heart beat,i know that is the moment when you most sane!
“Mmmmhhhh Mmmhh” The soft whispers you murmuring tells me you halfway to hades and as I watch you drift away,getting more settled and peaceful with every fading breath,I am overwhelmed by nostalgia for a place so familiar!Like a recovering addict inhaling the powerful intoxicating smell of opium from a distance, I want a taste.
But then I remember more powerful words that a stranger once said to me “You are stronger than any pain!”
So instead,I will fall on my knees and pray to the Good Lord above that you make it through the night,hopefully,you will read this letter tomorrow night,and every other night after that night;When the curtain falls and those voices start to scream, enticing you to bury your own life when you still so young, when you haven’t yet lived!Until the day you will be on your 499th day and it will be your fingers on the keypad pouring your heart out to another mate.
You are stronger than the totality of all those broken pieces of your life and your being that only becomes whole when you slice your skin with that blade.
You are stronger than the blade.
...................GOODNIGHT...................................
Published 14th May 2015
| Edited 15th May 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 801
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
