Life pushes you down until you cannot stand
laughter fills your ears yet it is not yours
a hopeless crying fills the night
it is all that you own
that and the inner screams
that make you need something
something different
release
You put the blade on your skin
anticipating the crimson heat about to be released
the tingling crawls across your flesh as you pull the razor
creating a chasm in which a scarlet river can flow
the bubbling lifeforce drips down moon colored skin
dying it red
the release that was anticipated has not come
all that is left is no longer important
you still wish for the release of pain
A small brown box is pulled out of the bottom of a drawer
out of it is pulled a small red tipped stick
striking it, the match comes to life with orange heat
you gaze iwth hunger upon the promise of destruction
the living match is laid against pale skin
the flame eats at flesh till it dies, dropping, spent, to the ground
yet the coveted release is not accomplished
hopeless
Sitting on your bedroom floor
pounding fists into the carpet
no help
they tell you to continue as you hand falls on the remote control
it feels heavy enough
it come down on an arm
small tinge
this is what you want
it comes down on a leg
they cheer you
you are hollow yet not alone
again and again till you cannot lift your arm for another moment
sastified
you are finally
black, blue, burnt and bleeding
released
Was it worth it...?
((Dedicated to all those considering pain as a way out....it's not))
