self-injury.net

Death

In the darkness

I find peace

Sweet sleep

No more voices

No more fear

No more pain

My lonliness is so overwhelming

That I pray for sweet release

Let my children find the happiness

They so richly deserve

That I don't seem able

To provide

They are so young

And they have seen so much

They have scars just like me

But their scars are not visible

To the untrained eye

Their scars are internal

Buried deep in their memories

Memories of fear as their

Mother was beaten

Memories of the tears

I cried that they try so desperately

To stop

Their angelic faces were my only

Escape

And now they're gone

GOD, please release me

From the nightmare

The terror my life has become

A black tunnel.
A pure white dress.
A few blue tears.
A lonely girl.
A few loud steps.
Someone's strong hand.
I turn to you.
You are lost, too.

You twine your fingers with my cold digits.
I look up at you as your love by a heart reveals.
I start to feel warmth from something,
In this Godforsaken, darkened tunnel.

We walk through this tunnel,
Hand in hand.
We guide ourselves through black,
Hand in hand.
We face hard obstacles,
Holding hands.
We search for the gold end,
Holding hands.

Then you start to fall and I can just watch.
I cry out to you as my vision by tears funnels.
I start to feel love for someone,
In this Godforsaken, broken tunnel.

The story hasn't stopped.
I don't want it to.
I won't let you go,
because I love you.
I'll pick you up,
And keep us moving.
We will find happiness.
With this song, I'll keep singing.

When you feel too weak,
I'll give you all my strength.
When you cannot speak,
I'll give you my whole voice.
I want to find happiness with you.

We walk through this tunnel,
Hand in hand.
We guide ourselves through black,
Hand in hand.
We face hard obstacles,
Holding hands.
We search for the gold end,
Holding hands.

How does this story end? Read more »

I tend to wonder if he hates,
Oh why does he hate me?
I wonder if he’ll steal much more,
How selfish can he be?

He pulled them off this place called earth,
Their time was more than done.
He pulled them from their lawful lives,
Their battle he had won.

I ask myself if it were true,
Am I the reason why?
Their worlds no longer turn at night,
They now no longer cry.

When the moon does not rise a night,
And the stars do go out.
Our eyes will close, and we will sleep,
And never stir about.

The more I feel, the more I hate,
I wonder if he knows.
Whenever they cross through my mind,
It’s only him I loath.

Now that they no longer need me,
My time is almost near.
Everyone who helped me right by,
Is now my biggest fear.

Here I stand, in solemn darkness,
Cursing at the night sky.
I cannot stand to hear of them,
I have stopped asking why.

When the moon does not rise at night,
And the stars do go out.
Our eyes will close, and we will sleep.
And never stir about.

Their faces I’ll no longer see,
His voice I will not hear.
My heart has begun to slow down,
The end is almost near.

For one last beat—I am sorry.
This time is meant to be.
My mind is set, my breaths are done,
It’s time to die, you see? Read more »

"Do you hate me?" I asked.

“No,” she told me. Her lips brushed against my cheek, extinguishing a single tear.

I knew that she would be well within her rights to hate me; I’d done it again. I’d given in and let the demons overpower me. And yet she held me tenderly in the aftermath, hiding the anguish she felt inside. Despair welled within her every time she dutifully wrapped my forearms in clean white gauze, but she never let it show. Seeing the crimson blood and broken flesh pained her; she was ill at the sight of what I had done. But nothing tore her apart more than imagining what depths of agony must have compelled me to do this to myself again.

She could never comprehend the brokenness, the abject madness that churned inside of me each time I fell from grace, each time I surrendered to the depraved and twisted beauty of that glistening blade. Nor did she pretend to understand. She just knew that I needed someone to break that fall. I needed someone to sit with me as the blood and shame spilled out of me and stained the cold tile floor. I needed someone to love me in spite of it all. She was my single anchor in sanity, the hand that struggled to hold me just a hair’s breadth above the point of no return. By all rights, she should have hated me for every twisted coil of darkness she drew out of me and bore as her own.

“I don’t hate you,” she reassured me again, in a voice soft as a breath. “I could never, ever hate you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I love you.”