self harm will never be a quiet addiction.
yes it can be silent, but in it's silence it holds a want, a need, a burning, an anger that cannot be stopped, silenced
it's loud, it demands attention,
when it progresses it's not a quiet evil, you can feel it in your veins, clawing at your skin, it doesn't't stop until you taste blood in your mouth, until your lungs fill up with water,
a drowning feeling in your chest, an emptyness in your stomach,
the guilt taking on a thousand different faces, each one of them disappointed in you, hurt, bleeding, broken, empty,
an illusion still too real.
it's all worth it if it will quiet down for just a moment, be less loud, less demanding,
the hands that were clawing at your skin, ripping out pieces of your flesh now almost feel like caresses,
grazing your skin ever so gently but with nails sharp enough to be able cut you at the smallest error, a word, misplaced.
you'll scream but no sound will leave your mouth, except maybe a vibration, barely audible but still there.
even the most silent screams have an echo.
- addiction
-V.
YOU ARE READING
iridescent mind: poetry by me
Poetrymainly vent poetry. I'm really only posting this for myself but if anyone wants to read it you're welcome to. TWs on the first chapter i promise the poems get better if you go on sometimes I'll attach photos or drawings i made.(like the cover)
