Tag Archives: wrists

Rubber Bands

His wrists were so flushed

From the stinging pink blush

Rubber smile lasting a second

Before snapping back away

Rippling palest purple shade

Watercolour lily against peach

Numb pastels the only colour

He could paint without a stitch.

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Places In My Veins

I’ll lower your body down into an open grave 
And let the vultures have their way with you
We’ll take you by surprise and spill your blood like wine
Scarlet stains upon the flesh will end the night…

~*~

There’s a place for my pulse

Somewhere within my wrists

But no matter how hard I try

I can’t figure out where it is

.

I’ll rest my head in a sea of nightmares

And drown looking for a sweeter dream

I’ll marry a liar just to find out the truth

High on the promise, low on self-esteem

.

And the haze is piercing my blacktop heart

Latent vortex swirling in a negative universe

Rotting with the blindness that I call my eyes

Hides the blood of another paralysing curse

.

There’s a place for the vaguer beat of my soul

Somewhere under my skin, between my wrists

But no matter how many deep incisions I make

I simply can’t seem to find it; does it even exist?

~*~

Everything you say rings hollow
But you will tell your stories again and again
Sell your half-truths with a smile
Take and inject it, inject it!

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Cutless

It feels like a decade

Since these tears last bled

And the moon in my sober eyes

Were thoroughly wasted

When the sentient papercuts

Barely felt a modest sting

And the headlights overhead

Were blindingly glaring

When nights were spent praying

But the car crash never arrived

Acid sensation uncontrollable

But no one ever died

It feels like a decade since

The reaper knocked on my wrists

I swept my sins but I still don’t know

What it’s like to be completely free.

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Suicide For Sale

Both my wrists

Are up for auction

And the blade

Is screaming bids

Going once,

Going twice…

Death sold to the

Suicidal kid!

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writings on wrists

“Oh, what a waste of a perfectly good clean wrist…”

~*~

you can make me laugh

then fucking cry

i’m so riddled with guilt

but you made me fly

your words are lyrical

every note a butterfly kiss

assuring me again

of what i might miss

oh, i can only wish

that i kept my promise

and i turned to you

instead of doing damage

your names collide

with the filthy red scars

black ink against purple veins

soon, they’ll win the war

what’s done is done

and blood falls forever

but while you’re still singing with me

i’ll do my best to be stronger.

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A Box of Sharp Things

Please do not

Notice the fresh

Scars on my skin

It’s nothing—

My clumsy hands

Just slipped on a

Box of sharp things

Yet again…

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