Late Night LullaBYEs (lyric poem)

Cut my leg and watch it bleed.

Drag the blood into some trees.

In God we trust they said to me.

 

Form my home, my Devil’s church.

Feel the sting, just a little hurt.

Come on sweetie, we’ll make It work.

 

One, two, three, sing your ABCs.

Bullied kids, they cry desperately.

Your jokes can burn in hell with thee.

 

Broken soul under all this meat.

Stupid fucking heart, why do you beat?

On your knees, come pray with me.

 

ABC, count your numbers please.

All these kids hanging’ under trees.

But it’s okay as long as you believe.

 

Cut my leg and watch it bleed.

Drag the blood into some trees.

In God we trust they said to me.

My Savior

He saved me in a way Satan would save someone. Nonetheless, he saved me. His voice echoed the words I wanted to hear at just the right tone and pitch to shatter glass. Of which I picked up a shard, my very own blade to feel something. An endless supply of words which granted me the gift of cutting, the gift of life. My shards drug across my skin and I had a purpose. Yes I was doing the Devil’s work, but the point was that I was doing something. I was living…feeling….bleeding. His voice the purity which brought so much pain. So much towards the backwards step in survival.

A Few of My Flaws

I am so stuck.

This pit of emptiness absorbs me.

Everything’s black.

There’s nothing.

My shoulders circle uncomfortably.

My grip tightens.

I pull my hair to try to find grounding.

I hyperventilate until I am on the brink of death.

My fingers run down my thighs,

smooth to rough to smooth.

My cuts smile back at me proud.

Another cut, another day I fought to stay alive.

The desire to scream.

The feeling of it not being okay, never forgiving myself.

I never fought back, didn’t yell for him to stop.

My passive anger remains bottled.