Raw Emotion Poems

On Purpose

I cut my hand on purpose.

I severed my palm.

 I wanted to know if it would ease my mind,

to answer some unknown thoughts.

I cut my hand on purpose.

It did not bleed or hurt.

Some part of me is unsatisfied,

yet the other is glad.

It hides as a simple paper cut.

No one will ever know. 

Because I do not plan on ever causing something worse.

I admit I feel the broken skin,

averaged against keys.

And it leaves me feeling full of guilt,

and a little bit of peace.

I finally did it.

I finally gave in.

I finally showed my pain.

For just one second,

I'm not longer trying to make something better.

I don't know what to do.

I don't think I can sleep.

Because this feeling eats me away 

until I've nothing left to steep.

The problem is 

I don't know.

I don't know what hurts.

It all does.

I don't want to feel happiness until I feel safe within myself.

Do not mislead me with the physical.

Because outside I am fine.

But beware your actions because sometimes I'll think you blind.

Please know that I'm okay.

But I'm fighting battles today.

So I want to be on purpose.

I want to live my life.

I want to die.

I want to shine.

I want to be on purpose.

~RememberThoseDreams