if you can't handle it please go home!!
Ice cold, tearing gently, smoothly down my ghost-like skin
Like a faucet, barely dripping, blood slowly trickles from my veins
Numb, the only real thing I feel, numb, numb and dead
Red drips, the feeling of being almost alive, resurrected from my dreary grave
A split-second passes with a high mimicking the surge of a tidal wave
Then the great recession, remorse, and the feeling of pain
Pain that surges through every pulse, every trickle of blood
The decision has been made: the judge and jury saying ‘guilty of death’
The punishment for the crime must be followed Methodically the pills go in my mouth; my movements almost mechanical Slowly the life goes out of my weakening limbs
Collapsing to my knees, weeping, hoping my fate will be wrong
Realizing I don’t want to finish life, crying, I fear its too late
I fall into a deep slumber: praying I will rise again
--copyright D.Wilfong. 2003.
You can visit D. Wilfong's wonderfully done site on self injury ~ Here.
Self - Injury
Here
