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 PM
This is a poem of my struggle with the urge to cut. It isn't vry good but to me it means a lot. I for odd and slightly graphic imagry.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Angst - Words: 109 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 04-13-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3013173
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A+ A-
 Full 3/4 1/2  Expand Tighten 
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I can't go home
You shouldn't ask why
If you must know
I will try to explain
Home I am alone
No matter who is there
It is too easy to find a dark corner
In my soul
Alone
There is darkness there
No matter how many lights are on
It is a pitch-black island
With the moon a shining blade
Alone
On the island of my home, I want
Need
To pluck the shimmering moon from the sky
Flash it down in a sharpened arch
Into my soft arm
The blade moon slicing deep
Drawing crimson blood
That will make a sea
Around my island
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