Rusty-my best friend.

by Your Best Mistake Your Perfect Failure   Jan 26, 2007


This rusted blade
holds the stories of the decisions I've made.

The stories he hides
are all kept
on my outside..

scars-marks-designs
all those things are mine
something that you'll never know,
when you look into these tear flooded eyes.

along these years
are many tears
many kept up at night
nothing left to hold tight
it used to be alright..

I call to rusty to soothe my pain
he takes it all away
he makes it all ok..

i take his rust, infuse it with my blood..
to create this mud..
used for my death..
i no longer hold my breath
waiting for things to be the same..
never again, will i be lame
and let you use me
beat-batter-abuse me..

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Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by myshiningstar14

    Ive been there as well, if cutting whats your talking about, sometimes death seems the friendliest way out..if u like this topic i have one called SWEETENED DEATH that you might like, its pretty far down so just search it...

  • 17 years ago

    by kellie

    This poem is very dark.
    Yet satisfying my reading needs of the night.
    Your are my inspirtation.
    =]

  • 17 years ago

    by David

    Such a dark and inviting poem, the imangry.

    5/5 always David

  • 17 years ago

    by Mo

    You did a great job of making the reader visualise your deep emotional saddness and scars. Hopefully you dont resort to using the rusty-blade that you talk about. Its good to get those feelings out - good write, definitely.

  • 17 years ago

    by Espoirfailed

    Wow, this is a powerful poem, u have a great talent for writing. my fav line was "it used to be alright" i liked ur references to "rusty" it was v effective, well done

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