Self harm Poems
Temptation
by Jasper Kirby
Temptation beckons me in every waking moment. I can drown her out but she’s always there. If ever my mind goes quiet, she’s waiting for me, anticipating the very second she can start to tear me apart, inch by inch, until I cave and give in to her wants.
Once you’ve had a taste of her curse, you can never forget it. But you can fight it, so I do. I fight and I fight and I lose and I fight again. Scars that remind me of past battles litter my skin, but they only serve to fuel me further. How dare she hurt me and tarnish my body. How dare she.
Just because you lose the battle, doesn’t mean you’ve lost the war.
July 27
by Habiba Soliman
I should be over it
Right?
It's been 353 days
Almost a year has passed
But why am I still scared?
Why do I still hate it when people come close
I still panic when I don't have to
Still feel his hand on my skin
Degrading me in every way
Still remember the words he said to me
......
inner turmoil
by aditya vats
As the blazing star resolves in the ocean,
The haunting echoes come out of hiding.
My trembling fingers long for the
blood-soaked glass slab to firmly
stroke my withering skin.
The slabs of my broken,
blood-soaked mirror,
sheen brighter than
......
19. War Is(n't) Over
by Kea Campbell
I'm proud of you for winning your silent battles,
The toughest decisions that you keep from prattle.
Clap for every single day you refrain from incisions,
Clap for every single time you say 'no' to addictions.
Whatever it is, you deserve the recognition,
The choice to get up, keep going, fulfilling envisions.
I'm proud of me for still holding the towel,
I never threw it in, instead, in I put dowels.
I wouldn't've made it to today if it weren't for my friends,
......
Anger
by Hannah Woerner
I am so angry. I'm not sure why, but I am furious.
I will be walking down the hall and just want to smash my hand against the walls, until I can’t move it, until there’s more blood than flesh. I want it to hurt, I want it to hurt so much that it’s all I feel.
So I don’t get these flashes of debilitating sadness, of complete emptiness, or utter anguish.
I want physical pain, but I am too weak to do it to myself. I want someone to hurt me until I can’t feel anymore.
I want to bleed, to see the red run down my skin. I want to hurt.
Am I angry? I guess I can’t tell anymore. is it anger or something more. Is the root of it deeper, why do I care.
Why couldn’t I just do it. Now there are people watching, why did I fucking tell people.
I would have been fine, and if not I wouldn’t have to deal with it now. I didn’t do it so what’s it matter.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I want to scream I want to cry I want a fucking hug.
I want to talk to her but she’s so tired. I could just text her. I’m going to text her, but not tell her why. just to distract myself, maybe she’s asleep and then she won’t answer and then I don’t know.
......
Cut and another cut
by Siyana Tsvetkova
Cut and cut into my skin
The knife now felling dull and my hand filled with scrapes And blood
Maybe it's an act for attention for help
Maybe it's an act of anger
Maybe it's both
Or maybe I'm just crazy
Crazy enough to do this to myself just so I can feel something
Even if it's pain even if it's sadness
I wanna feel something or maybe I'm begging for attention I don't know
It's hard to admit you actually do it that you actually hurt yourself
......
85. My silent stories are fading
by Kea Campbell
My silent stories are fading.
Unthought and nearly forgotten.
Testimonies published since grade 8,
But the chronicles, less of an epilogue.
I think about writing sequels,
But the narratives never change.
It starts with me and ends the same.
Merely less of who I used to be.
......
19. War Is(n't) Over
by Kea Campbell
I'm proud of you for winning your silent battles,
The toughest decisions that you keep from prattle.
Clap for every single day you refrain from incisions,
Clap for every single time you say 'no' to addictions.
Whatever it is, you deserve the recognition,
The choice to get up, keep going, fulfilling envisions.
I'm proud of me for still holding the towel,
I never threw it in, instead, in I put dowels.
I wouldn't've made it to today if it weren't for my friends,
......
Scars of silence
by Ayla R
I wear a mask to hold in place
A painted smile upon my face;
But underneath this outer shell,
Lies hidden deep an inner hell
Each whispered word- a silent plea,
Yet no one sees the ghost in me.
My head is filled with endless thoughts
Some battles won, but this one's lost
The blade I hold inside my hand
......
At The Door
by Jeff Bresee
Curled up in the corner
in dead of the night.
Afraid of darkness
and praying for light.
Eyes peer from the ceiling.
Hands reach from the floor.
Hearts beat from the walls
and he stands at the door.
......
