
This is a very old poem about cutting. No, I don't cut. Trigger Warning.
Rated: Fiction M - English - Horror/Poetry - Words: 141 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 12-07-04 - Status: Complete - id: 1777279
|
|
A+ A- |
I hate living
So tedious and tiring
Almost like, I'm dieing
By living this lie
So to make my living death
Less boring
I've brought along some toys
Shiny and sharp as ice
Painful as fire
My favorite is the cheese grater
Sharper then the rest
This one sharp as fear
Painful as life
Slicing my skin into skinny little strips
More blood flows then with the
Other knives
So much more
Oh, how I love my cheese grater
Slicing at my skin
Cutting me apart
Keeping me sane
I relish this soothing
Pain
Almost Heaven
I believe
My angels all live inside
My pain
Living in my bleeding
Prison
Of broken lies
And dieing dreams
All plying in my pain
Twisting it into
My sadistic pleasure
Because they love my cheese grater
Almost as much as I do
|
||||||