thoughts
of hysteria creep into my mind. my head cranes, turns as i stand in front of the reflection, disgust crawls up my throat and i can't help but loathe myself in every way. the only option seems to be the dagger dipping into the blood of sorrow.
one.
i can't help but wrap my fingers around the blade, rising it to my exposed skin. as the flames of hell seem to blaze through my eyes, regret and shame seeps out in red ink from my wrist.
and insanity is in everything i do.
two.
voices ring and suffuse my intellect. something in me screams out for help but i can stop—i will not stop until the ocean tide in my mind flows away. 'two is moral but another lacerate is shattering' the words echo and i can't help but listen (and agree).
three.
call me mad but if i don't gash my throat soon the voices will drown me in unhinged thoughts and i can't—won't live to see the lights of heaven (hell). the cherry wine is spilling onto the floor of the earth and i can't breathe.
four.
everything is blurred with scarlet.
i can't (fucking) breathe.
the voices are screaming.
i am screaming.
angels are crackling,
and devils are crying,
my ignominy, loneliness,
remorse, envy, everything
is swelling with tears of my past,
causing me to choke with fear
(and i know what happens next)
'three is not enough.'
T H R E E IS NOT E N O U G H
(and this, this is when i really drown)
four cuts
four taps
four numbers
four letters
four
four
four
four.
my thoughts of hysteria are taking over, and i can't stop them.
-
this is from my other poetry book but it's basically ocd in the form of self harm
YOU ARE READING
choking insanity
Poetrydevils laugh at prayers, but so do gods. POETRY BOOK - cover by alwyzeasierr
