Self Harm And Suicide Quotes

Quote 22

Poems of Self Harm

ASK ME ANYTHING ARCHIVE

My wrist, my canvas
My blade, my paintbrush
Across my flesh
A stroke of red
Dripping down
Thoughts of guilt
My wrist of scars
My canvas of blood
Suck pretty strokes
Such painful thoughts
-T
(Thank you for sharing)

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27 notes

Art

You open the drawer
And take out the blades
Which do you use today?
You run your fingers over them, looking for a sharp edge

The deeper the better
You lick your lips and select a blade
You'll relish the pain that you've earned
You sigh and close the door of your room
No one can ever know
The tears rolling down your cheeks remind you,
You said you'd never do it again
But no one can stop you, not even yourself
It's what you do to feel alive
You roll up your sleeves and look at the scars

Such a wonderfully pretty design
And now it's time to paint again
The paintbrush is in your hands
You stop and consider what you're about to do
You analyse yesterday's art
Paint, artist, paint, it'll take you to Wonderland
You bite your lip, this is it
You begin to paint your masterpiece
-Anonymous
(Thank you for submitting this beautiful poem)

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16 notes

Recovery.

I drew jagged lines on my wrists and thighs.
With a blade sharper than a butter knife
Sometimes I would lay in bed all day and night, longing for a better life.
My days were a light switch, flipping from one side to another
One day I would be laughing around with my brother
And the next I would drawing jagged lines, one after the other.
Some days I recover and feel better
Some I break and crying like no other
The day's move on and my heart aches more, when I'm wishing for something more.
Some one to save me, someone to care.
Some one to help me, someone who was always there.
It use to come in a form of a person would love me no matter how much I was torn.
Today is the day, I am four months into recovery. Not one person came to help me.
No white knight on a mighty steed, just a girl who needed to see.
That the only one to save me... Was me.
-M.C

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21 notes

My Battle

Today I'm fighting,
Fighting a battle that no one knows about.
It's not battle like in war;
Not like the battles that are happening in Iraq.
It's my battle, my very own personal battle.

Do you ever notice?
The scars that appear on my arms?
These are my battle scars-
That no one knows about.

I am fighting my hardest.
Fighting my best to stay alive.
I hope that I'm going to win,
But each day just gets harder.

Yes today like any other day I am fighting a battle.
I am fighting a war,
But you won't notice,
You can't help,
This is my battle,
No one can join in-
Even though many have,
But they are fighting against me.

One day you'll notice my wounds.
One day you'll notice my scars.
One day you'll notice how hard I tried,
But it will be noticed too late.
Too late for you to act like you care.
As I would have lost my last and final battle.
My very own battle to stay alive.