Crimson Battle

A single razor long and thin The horrible pleasure as it breaks through my skin That control I get over my own fate My own hands over the wounds I create Others don’t understand my life or my mind If they only looked closer, they’d fear what they find A desolate prison for body and soul Those horrible years with everlasting toll My crimson blood, so beautiful and red The tears on my pillow as I cry in my bed All those simple factors that tear through my heart I spend all my time alone, just ripping myself apart Those blackest of nights filled with hatred and rage Alone in my room, my own silent cage Fleeing into darkness escaping the prison Knowing the consequences, accepting my decision Shivering and cold, where I am, none can tell But I won’t go back home, not back to that hell Who cares if I’m found, no loved ones to cry Nobody to mourn me, if I was to die Returned by a force, more powerful than me Why don’t they believe me, why don’t they see My words they call lies, my tears they call fake As I sit here and suffer, all the pain that I take The inhuman touches, the beats and the batters My own crimson blood on the wall as it splatters Nobody cares, not a soul in this world Just my own hurt and sadness, in the corner I’m curled Will I ever be saved, or is my fate sealed Will somebody tell me will my wounds ever be healed...This poem was inspired by a friend...and my mother, who both went through this. I dedicate this to all the people out there who are going through horrible things. Keep your faith and hope...There's always tomorrow. Written December 4th, 2001 © on Dec 04 2001 01:06 PM PST   18 • 0 • 1