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Feb 05
2011 |
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I wrote this to represent the addictive nature of self-harm/cutting....
A life to live. So much help and talent to give. But beneath it all, Such pain was masked. Hope slipped away as she tried to grasp.
No one seemed to care. Now softly crying, she’s kneeling there. Wrapping her arms in a crimson blanket. Knowing with each slice,
A simple heart.
Too little too late.
She really hates it.
Holding the blade with trembling hands
Soon his captive she becomes.
Screaming ‘No please stop!’ she jerks away, but soon finds out she cannot run.
Not only her arm, but her heart he has.
She begs and pleads but no one hears.
The only company, this small, sharp master; the only sound, her falling tears.
written by milie92 , February 08, 2011
You have talent! I am in the same situation as the girl in the writing.. And fighting against yourself is one of the hardest thing to do.. you have no escape. You are help prisonner by You. or a part of you? It is hard to live when you are scared of yourself and you are your own ennemy. I fight each day. it's now been 15 days since I didn't cut myself. ...But the scars on my arms will remain forever 
written by Syrie1 , February 07, 2011
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