Confession

Silence
Only tears
As I press the blade
Against my pale skin

Red
The blood flows
From the wounds
Echoing my inner pain

Satisfaction
As I feel the knife
Slicing into me
I only deserve pain

Anguish
As I realize what I've done
I feel accomplishment
As I gaze at the marks upon my skin

Stares
People are horrified
Don't understand why
Neither do I

by Ruth warren

Other poems of WARREN (149)

Comments (2)

We are so complex.Sometimes we need to remind ourselves that actually we are all really beautiful perhaps we just need a different kind of mirror. Strong write, much sadness, .Love Duncan
Ruth, I'd rather see you obtain catharsis from writing than harming yourself. Keep writing and writing and writing some more until no words remain inside of you. Peace and Love, Ray