SELF-HARM

POETRY

By Rayne

The Fear

How long has it been since I've spilled my own blood?
You sick sad girl, is it what you truly crave?
Is it the pain, the sharp hot sting?
Is it the blood, the shocking screaming red
Like crimson roses in the snow?
Or is it the tears that follow?
NOT your own, no NEVER your own!
But those of the ones that you despise so.
It's them you want to feel the pain,
And them to see the blood.

It's them you want to punish huh?
So why turn it all inside?
Because my throat has been riped out
Oh so long ago.
Its the only voice I have to tell them or to show
My fear.

Self-Harm: The Music

Who sees me play my instrument?
Who sees me make my songs?
Who sees the bright red music
Shocking, wet, and long?


Who sees me play my instrument?
Who sees me work the strings?
Its a secrete how I pluck
Such notes and sweetly sing.


Who sees me play my instrument?
Its just a silly game.
I've only had to call for help
To keep me SOMEwhat sane.


Who sees me play my instrument?
Surely no one knows!!
Tis but a simple razor blade
That on my skin does blow.

Just a Cut

Just a cut.
Just a tiny slice in my skin.
Am I forgiven?
Who are you to judge?
You drink, you smoke, you hate,
I dont.
I cut.
Who am I hurting but myself?
There was a time when you didnt know.
You hadnt a clue!
I blindfolded you
Then laughed as you smiled in your simplistic view.
Now you gasp in horror
And cry uncontrollably
As if you werent the one 
Who said "I hate you".
Did I return the words?
Of course not! I only stole away
To the bathroom
My private hideout.
I took out my swords,
I took out my shields
I enacted war
Against myself.
I smile and cry
I cut and then hide.
You dont even ask
About the blood on my shirt.
My pants are all ruined.
I do the laundry now.
Did you need the blackness of that blindfold?
Do you yearn for it now as you burn
In the light of my exposure?
I'm sorry I failed you.
I'm sorry you know.
You werent supposed to.
No one was.
Now they all gasp in horror
Pretend not to notice,
Or smile piteously, bastards.
They dont how I laugh at them
When I am alone.
Performing my bloody ritual.
It puts me at ease.
You appologize
As if I were diseased.
You bring me flowers
And sit with me for hours
Then I mark myself
Feeling nothing but joy.
Feeling nothing but sunshine.
You find this hard to believe but I know
It is only because you are weak.
I am strong, look at me!
See what I can do?
Could you do this to?
Ha! I doubt it.
Now you greedy pigs wish to own my only weapon
Against the darkness that creeps up within me.
I have no more joy, 
I have no more freedom,
I have no more peace,
I have only blood.
Every tiny cut brings me one step closer to hell.
What an evil sin
To fall in love with.
Still I cant stop
Not until I gain back my own faith.
Your "I hate you"s must stop...
Your "tisk tisk"s too.
Stop wagging your head! 
You pathetic weakling.
Youve no concept of pain.
Youve not concept of joy.
I must have both
In a never-ending parade of steel.
I WILL heal.
But for now, I still need
My blood.

Blood Red Rose

 
Look at me, see what I've got?
Its a blood red rose for you.
I grew it on my skin one night
In the darkness of my room.


It took no water, nor no seed.
It took no dirt of pot.
I carried it so carefully 
And picked the perfect spot.


Then I took my special hoe
And planted it right where
Everyone could watch it grow,
Right in the open air.


Its perfect in its simplicity,
So lovely in the snow.
It bears the burden of my pain,
So everyone will know.


Look at me, my skin is snow,
My wound is long and deep.
It looks just like a blood red rose...
I've planted - now I reap.






Violent Sin

Tears of blood spill from my viens, 
An aching pain begins.>
And yet I still cant feel relief
By my evil sins.
Like a mother it would comfort me,
Like medicine it would heal.
Now it feels all empty, cold,
Like everything else, unreal.
Slowly my blood drains away,
Slowly now I die.

And all the scars that mark my skin
Are impossible to hide.
Without that comfort I cant live,
Cant thrive without my sins.
The need - it calls me! -
Can I survive that violent sin again?








Sin

I took a razor, cut my skin.
What an evil, dirty sin.
I bled out all the bad inside,
But now its out and I cant hide.
The red flowed strongly from my leg,
What a bloody mess it made.
My fingers played in pools of pain
And smeared it on my ugly face.
I laughed and squealed, it made me smile
To see such beauty so defiled.
I stared into the mirror long
Until I realized something's wrong.
Now I was covered in the red,
So was the floor, the walls, the bed.
If it remained others would see
The sick and evil girl thats me.
I had to clean, and quickly too.
Till the room looked bright and new.
Till I was fresh and forgiven 
For my nasty secrete sin.
So I got down on my knees
To scrub and wash and cry and plead.
Eventually the dirt was cleaned,
But not from me, or so it seemed.
I turned the shower onto hot
And bathed before I could get caught.
Swirls of pink ran down the drain
Erasing all the evil stains.
Maybe now I can move on,
If all the madness has washed off.
Through love - if sanity I've gained - 
I'll never have to bleed again.







 as of October 4, 2003