Small Cuts on White Skin
Silent is the house
yet, chaotic my mind
Kept hidden - my dagger,
so prying eyes wont find
The candles cast shadows
on the walls, and dance -
Creatures with horns
swirl, shimmer and prance
Within me a battle,
two forces they fight -
dormant through daytime,
They burn brightly at night
Images of despair,
voices of hate -
self-loathing and anger
lead me to weeping gate
In dark corners of my mind
emotions locked away -
not facing what happened
loathing myself each day
A sense of emptiness
ignored for so long -
the feeling burning inside,
its poison so strong
Disregarded it did fester
took on a life of its own -
pushed away those in my life,
each day I'm alone
With a dagger in hand,
no tears in my eyes -
the pain a release,
for one who won't cry
Strategically placed,
wounds hidden from sight -
I see my blood seeping
staining pale skin - so bright
The feeling quite pleasant,
quiets the torment within -
the only sign of my anguish
Smalls cuts on pale, white skin
© Amanda Lancaster, 2006
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