[x]

Broken ChildI'm broken inside
Sadness, and disappointment
take over me.
I wonder why
It has to be this way.
I ask God how come?
When all these problems
Come will they ever go?
I seek hope.
Sometimes failing to
find the will to believe
that everything will be fine again,
Will return to me the way they left.
All this sadness makes me feel lonely,
Scared, and that, there's no one
To understand me,
No one who can feel my pain.

SuicideThe jagged edge is pulled across.
Pulled across my wrist.

Cuts into my vein

One step closer to death.
One step closer to hell.
One more sin before I die.
The sin of suicide

While I wait I dig my grave.
My blood turns to mud as it mixes with the earth.

Red mud.Made from me

I toss down my shovel,
and dance into my grave.

Dance my dance of death.

Hey, can you hear me?"Hey!"
"Hello....."

Staring straight ahead, right at a blank wall.

"Are you listening?"
"I said hi!"

Looking at the emptyness, yet seeing nothing at all.

"This is Earth to you!"
"Zoned out again?"

Last night, you almost lost you.

"Can you hear me?"
"I'm screaming in your ear!"

You've thought and sat there thinking, and you still don't know what to do.

"Are you going to respond?"
"Hello?"

You fell so far, into your own mind.

"Hello?"
"Answer me!"

But there were ones who would not leave you behind.

"Please!"
"Hello!"

Confused, numb and empty, you turn the thoughts over in your head.

"I know you can hear me!"
"Please! Say something

Tragedy to TriumphWith ice in her veins
And a heart as dark as a moonless night
Her soul bound by chains
Her mind wants to give up this eternal fight

She's lost and alone
In a world she doesn't belong
Suffering is all she's ever known
She's lost her will to be strong

She sees through the eyes of tragedy
And hears only what her mind wants to say
She feels nothing but apathy
Even in her dreams she's gone astray

This was me
But a year ago
Through tragedy
I finally know

I've learned through trials and woe
That this life is for living
To embrace it and grow
Through letting go and forgiving

Everyday is a new start
I've got nothing to lose
If I listen to my hear

Butterfly ScreamsIt's fun,
Isn't it?
Hurting me?
Killing me?
Watching me bleed?

Mocking me?
Striking me?
Ignoring my needs?

Destroying who I am,
And all I'll ever be.

But you wouldn't stop,
That I can see.

The butterflies in my stomach,
Scream as the hurtful words
Pin them to corkboard.
I'll cut myself,
And bleed.
I'm gonna lay down,
And hear the butterflies scream.

"Don't even worry."
"I'm perfectly fine."
Words are sandpaper,
And a couple of lies.

So while I'm here,
Down on the floor;
Do your worst,
Your worst and more.

So I'll lay down,
And bleed.
Even when I'm gone,
The butterflies will still scream.

What Do I Live For?I use to live for
A razor and a pen
But then I stepped back and realized
I need to look at my life again

Everyday I constantly fight
This aching pain inside of me
Writing dark words on blood stained paper
And cutting open veins cuz it was easy

Someone asked me what I live for
And afraid I said, "I do not know"
They laughed and told me knowingly
"I know and your fear does show"

So I put my razor down and thought
'Without you, what else is mine?'
I opened the tablet at the edge of my bed
And this is what I wrote on the first line:

"I Live For…"
Tapping pencil to my lip
Smiling at thoughts of my life
I wrote the following

My voice?I tried to smile,
laugh through the pain,
but it's been a while,
I think I'm insane.

I can't hear my own voice.
The one that says what I want.
Now I have no choice.
You never did, it taunts.

It tells me what I should say.
It tells me who I am.
It tells me everyday.
Am I the lion or the lamb?

Am I as weak as I feel,
or as strong as I pretend?
Am I cold and hard as steel,
or just waiting for it to end?

Who am I?
Do I really want to know?
I end with a sigh.
The voice is telling me to go.

NeverW're always talking about the furture and the things we're going to do,
About doing crazy things and all the trouble we'll get into.

Of all the wierd things that'll happen to us,
Of all the memories that will never get left in the dust.

But it almost hurst to think that those times will never come
Almost, but all this has left me numb.

All the things I'll never have done,
And I'll never wake to see the sun.

All the loving people I'll never meet,
I'll never taste that love so sweet.

All the things I'll never have seen,
And I'll never get the chance to be me.

It was more than I could take,
But is this really an escape?

To me, it's not th

Corpse BrideGirl so sweet, only seventeen
A prettier sight you'd never seen
Long raven hair, soft pale skin
A heart every man wanted to win
Clear blue eyes, deep as the sea
As gentle a soul as there could ever be
Then one quiet winter's day
She ventured to where she used to play
A forest so thick, not bothered by light
But not too far in she was given a fright
For before her stood a man so strong
His piercing eyes watched her far too long
She turned, a sparrow in flight, too late
He held her fast, told her to wait
He meant no harm, he looked so sweet
And so they agreed from then on they'd meet
Every day they were together in secret
She f

The Madness WithinRide away.
Fly away.
Run away.
Run.
But I can't.
I'm stuck.
I can't
Escape.
I can't run away.
They will always catch up.
Steps.
Over and over.
Going nowhere.
I am stuck on repeat.
I'm stuck.
Stuck.
Tick.
Tick tick.
Tock.
I can't escape.
Time.
I can't outrun the clock.

Mon CheriHe grabbed me by my waist
pulling me closer to his chest
I pushed away in protest
but he slapped my face

Blood trickled down my lip
his eyes grew hungry
so he kissed me strongly
and my mouth, he bit

I bit his tongue
he moaned but let me go
lost in his show
I began to run

He saw me escaping
and quickly grabbed at my shirt
ripping at it like dirt;
I wasn't moving

Slamming me against a tree
he had me backwards to him,
choking me with a grin
he began thrusting it inside me

He was destroying me
my precious soul

He had devoured me
my poor mind

So aroused he was by my screams
as he pushed me on the forest floor
biting my br

The story of BecI was fucked up. I didn't need a doctor or a specialist to tell me that. I guess I've know that ever since I started obeying the urges, to put steel to skin, blade to blood; the urges which have become my reality.

It started before I was even born. My father abused my mother, more so when she was pregnant with her second child - me. Her first child, my brother, had been a miscarriage so I was her light and hope again. Soon after I was born she left. I don't know where she went; her body stayed but the bright , happy and strong woman I knew had left. She became a punch bag for my father. Physically and mentally: my father had a way of saying

CagedI am the bird,
trapped in your cage.
I cower inside,
terrified by your rage.

Please let me out.
I need to take flight.
The wind in my feathers,
smiling in the light,

but you won't let me out.
You laugh at my cry,
if you will not free me,
please let me die.

I cannot go on this way,
drowning in fear,
day after day,
year after year,

but you don't have the mercy,
don't have the grace.
You laugh as I scream,
a smile on your face.

Fine, be that way,
cruel and cold,
but I'm sick of playing,
your games gotten old.

I scratch at your hand.
Free! I fly straight ahead.
A window unopen,
thump! Your bird is dead.

You cry out,
but you can't hurt me.

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Submitted: February 10
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[x]

I'm clean!

by ~Freezingsteelmurder, Feb 10, 2013, 3:58:09 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I don't cut anymore!
Because I'm checked every night.
I don't even glance at sharp things!
Because my razor was taken away.

I'm sober!
Because there's a lock on the liquor cabinet.
I don't even ask for a taste!
Because I'm not allowed in bars.

I'm off the medication!
Because it was hidden somewhere.
I don't even think about overdose!
Because I'm on antidepressants.

I don't bash my head into the wall!
Because there's a camera in my room.
The blood stains are faded!
Because a professional was hired to get the walls and floor clean.

I don't have suicidal thoughts anymore!
Because I'm on happypills.
I don't even try to kill myself!
Because I'm under constant supervision.

I don't drink the chemicals!
Because the kitchen sink was emptied.
The bleach doesn't have any effect on me!
Because believe me, I've tried.

Clean.
What does that even mean?
To be free, of the dirty habits that used to haunt you?
You gave them up, now you're clean.

Or you were blocked off.

I'm clean!by ~Freezingsteelmurder

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

hahahahahaha i dont even know what im doing anymore

lol. the only true thing about this poem is that, yes, im checked everynight.
so i turned to everything else mentioned, though given i was suicidal and have tried to off myself before this happened.....

EDIT: sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes! i get auto-corrected....

~~love 0 0~~

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~xXF0r3v3rXx Mar 8, 2013

Wait.....IM SO HAPPY NOW!!!!

~chancerox Feb 12, 2013 Hobbyist Digital Artist

this is so beautiful and brutally honest. i love it.

~Freezingsteelmurder Feb 12, 2013 Student General Artist

um...thank you^^

~TWLOHASupporter Feb 11, 2013 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

I really really like this

~Freezingsteelmurder Feb 11, 2013 Student General Artist

thank you~^^

~TWLOHASupporter Feb 12, 2013 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

you're welcome ^^

~GermaineBiotch Feb 11, 2013 Traditional Artist

~So-lovelyxxx Feb 10, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

I really like this. It was very clever and something, I never really thought of. Keeping using your pain and struggle to create such great, very relate-able and comforting for some of the most distrubed(which is what they really need... some comfort) artwork.

~pauldapro Feb 10, 2013 Student Writer

I agree, I find that writing out the pain, the trauma, in such brute honesty is one of the best cures of the mental struggle. I loved how every other italicized line just felt like a gutshot of reality, injected into powerful prose.

And you know what else I like about this nice piece? It's one of those rare works that makes you question the psychology of a person. Are people really feeling better, intrinsically, or is it just extrinsic, and how they are merely *perceived* as being clean? Old habits die hard, I guess.

All in all, just a bombshell of truth, with very few filler words. Great job

*Scriddles Feb 10, 2013

Well... at least you're not hurting yourself anymore. :c

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