deepundergroundpoetry.com
waking up from suicide
the wound becomes a part of you
raw.
you sting and hurt
a cut open and drying into ugly, infected scabs.
nobody will know because they will tell you
to hide them scars away
so you hide yourself away.
the world is red
and you open your eyes to
a different life;
months hence
you will look back and
wonder where the old you went
now replaced without a soul
that once lit you from within
and taught you to live.
because being saved against your will
is a torturing way to take in
another breath.
the only explanation to who i have become.
raw.
you sting and hurt
a cut open and drying into ugly, infected scabs.
nobody will know because they will tell you
to hide them scars away
so you hide yourself away.
the world is red
and you open your eyes to
a different life;
months hence
you will look back and
wonder where the old you went
now replaced without a soul
that once lit you from within
and taught you to live.
because being saved against your will
is a torturing way to take in
another breath.
the only explanation to who i have become.
Published 2nd Mar 2010
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2nd Mar 2010 1:29pm
Anonymous
2nd Mar 2010 1:48pm
dripping with great pain, celine if this is your own experience you are speaking about here, pls see that, you are more valuable than you had thought and nobody(should i say no jerk?)is worth self-harm.This verse by itself makes you a beautiful being!
2nd Mar 2010 3:05pm
I love that line. It gives the reader a vivid image of the way they'd feel waking up.
"nobody will know because they will tell you
to hide them scars away
so you hide yourself away."
So true, man-kind always wants to hide what they cannot bear to see.
A depressing yet enthralling read, allowing one to delve deep into thought.
"nobody will know because they will tell you
to hide them scars away
so you hide yourself away."
So true, man-kind always wants to hide what they cannot bear to see.
A depressing yet enthralling read, allowing one to delve deep into thought.
Anonymous
2nd Mar 2010 6:42pm
which recalls the best work of both Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton. Each line is finely wrought and emotional. Brilliant.
