Thin red lines

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Vintage Publishing
One of my darkest poems that I wrote years ago as I was battling a crippling depression. For the record, I am not like this anymore. I sought the help I needed.

Submitted: June 23, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 23, 2017

A A A

A A A


You may disagree and I’ll understand your perception,

Please listen to me for I have a confession.

Blame me not for what I’m about to say,

Truth is, I don’t think there’s just another way.

Through my eyes and my ears my heart’s absorbed so much pain,

And sometimes shoulders to cry on were out of my range.

The cuts on my wrist that with makeup I cape,

My blood and my pain gently escape.

Through the cracks of these thin red lines,

Is how I am freed from the thoughts in my mind.

There’s a whirlpool in my heart that’s eating it away,

Death that isn’t far from any of these days.

I am losing my whole talent and every bit of me,

I harm my wrist as silent as I could ever be.

Hoping that one night I cease at last my pain,

By drawing lethal lines across my fragile vein.

Maybe I’m not fit to be the things I’ve wanted,

Maybe after all I’m taking things for granted.

I cannot change my ways or erase the thin red lines,

And wishing for “someday” is apparently malign.


© Copyright 2017 jaylisbeth. All rights reserved.

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