mandown
14-11-2009, 05:33 PM
Ohh yeah, I'ma repost all my peoms and stuff I've written here ^^ :p
Cyriosity leads to Affection
Out of curiosity, I cut myself.
Out of Pain, I cry joy full, due to finally something new is to shine trough me.
Out agony, I cut myself again, and yet again, I get this thrilling pain running trough me.
After I cut myself, I watch in Awe how this red liquid flows down my arms.
Out of Curiosity, I taste the pain, and I get this metallic flavor running trough my mouth.
Due to I hunger for more, I start licking my arm, where this red Liquid is floating.
The day after, I fear my arm, I don't dare to show anyone it.
I bandage it to hide the scars from unwanted eyes.
And when I come home, I rip the bandage off, watching it with a sick feeling growing inside of me.
Out of despair, and a lil bit curiosity, will it feel as good as yesterday?, I cut myself again.
And today, I still get this wonderfull feeling growing inside me.
And yet today, I still get to see this wonderfull red liquid flow down my arm.
And yet today, I lick it with all my might for more.
And the morning after, I still fear the marks on my arm.
And today, I bandage it again, just like the yesterday, this time, I go around with shame filled in my body.
When I come home, out of shame, anger, curiosity, I cut my arms again, and I laugh and cry in the same time.
Because, I get this wonderfull pain, rushing trough my otherwise dark empty shell.
I see this red liquiod comeing out of my otherwise empty shell, just to prove, I'm not as empty as I think I am.
Yet again, I hunger for the taste of this liquid, and lick it all up with hunger and might.
And the morning after, I watch my arm, now filled with scars, other beatiful glowing red, others giving a wonderfull charm dark red.
And with pride, I start showing my arm up, skiping the bandage today, and the people asks me what I've done, I show them with all my pride.
Only so they, with all their might and power, to push me down to the floor again.
So when I get home, I scream, I cry, I cut my arm deeper for more blood, for more pain.
Suddenly, it gets all black, and the morning after, Ain't the morning after, It's the morning after the morning.
I wake up in this hospital bed, with all those scary faces, all I say is:
"Now you see how I feel, Then you all care about me. I've screamed for help and the answear is just laughter from the other side."
They seems to take no notice and just wonder I did go this far with my arm?
All I said, this is a prof that I am alive, This shows me, I can feel! This shows me, I'm not as empty as I thought!
And the red liquid comeing out, It makes me feel alive in a new way, to experience the taste I never thought I could call forth.
But they watch at me with angry eyes, no one seems to notice how I really feel, and just tells me to stop, I just take their time.
Angry I start shout at them, When I finally find something that makes me feel, why should I stop?!
They watch me, telling me, you're just in the way, you egoistik asshole, you just want people to acknowledge you.
I watch them and ask, If I really wanted them to acknowledge me, I could just kidnapp them, torture them, and say, I'm the superior one.
But I decided I'm not going to do that, because, they aren't worthy of my existens, everyone in the room laughs.
Telling me, I'm the on not worthy their existance, and that's why, no one wants me in their life, because, I'm an eye sore with my arms.
They kick me out after that, and I come home, my parents just screams at me. then continues with their stuff.
Yet again, I take this knife out, yet again, I cut myself, yet again, I get this thrill running trough me, yet again, I see this red liquid.
And with all my might, I yet again, lick it up, Feeling with proud, that I really is worth something, else I wouldn't taste like this.
And one more time. Just one more time, I do this, but now, filled with despair, anger, loneliness,sadness, and the wish to be loved.
The day after, in school, no one talks with me, everyone just stare me out as "that" kid, with a stay away sign over my head.
Suddenly, I find this girl, she's cute, she's nice, she's funny, she's someone to be there.
But as always, I'm to late for her, I'm lost in my search for being alive.
Instead of curiosity, instead of pain, instead of the red liquid, instead of anything exept, Affection, I cut myself again.
And again, and deeper, and more often, the hunger of blood, grows bigger, and I bit for more, and more.
Due my wrists already is broken as they are, I look like a dog, chewing of the last bit of meat from my bone.
While I do that, my view get more dizzy, I lose my ability to stand, I pass out, and this time.
I didn't wake up in a hospital, this time, I didn't wake up at all.
This time, I was dead, and in the burial I had, my parents payed the gold just to get rid of this burden.
But the acctual cermony, There was this lonley girl, that had been my light.
Standing alone, Crying, I feel her tears, trough the sun glowing with all it might to show how happy it is for me to finally be gone.
Those tears, I can only wish, they turn out to be her strenght, to remember me, as "her" boy, instead of "that" boy.
-Simon H
Cyriosity leads to Affection
Out of curiosity, I cut myself.
Out of Pain, I cry joy full, due to finally something new is to shine trough me.
Out agony, I cut myself again, and yet again, I get this thrilling pain running trough me.
After I cut myself, I watch in Awe how this red liquid flows down my arms.
Out of Curiosity, I taste the pain, and I get this metallic flavor running trough my mouth.
Due to I hunger for more, I start licking my arm, where this red Liquid is floating.
The day after, I fear my arm, I don't dare to show anyone it.
I bandage it to hide the scars from unwanted eyes.
And when I come home, I rip the bandage off, watching it with a sick feeling growing inside of me.
Out of despair, and a lil bit curiosity, will it feel as good as yesterday?, I cut myself again.
And today, I still get this wonderfull feeling growing inside me.
And yet today, I still get to see this wonderfull red liquid flow down my arm.
And yet today, I lick it with all my might for more.
And the morning after, I still fear the marks on my arm.
And today, I bandage it again, just like the yesterday, this time, I go around with shame filled in my body.
When I come home, out of shame, anger, curiosity, I cut my arms again, and I laugh and cry in the same time.
Because, I get this wonderfull pain, rushing trough my otherwise dark empty shell.
I see this red liquiod comeing out of my otherwise empty shell, just to prove, I'm not as empty as I think I am.
Yet again, I hunger for the taste of this liquid, and lick it all up with hunger and might.
And the morning after, I watch my arm, now filled with scars, other beatiful glowing red, others giving a wonderfull charm dark red.
And with pride, I start showing my arm up, skiping the bandage today, and the people asks me what I've done, I show them with all my pride.
Only so they, with all their might and power, to push me down to the floor again.
So when I get home, I scream, I cry, I cut my arm deeper for more blood, for more pain.
Suddenly, it gets all black, and the morning after, Ain't the morning after, It's the morning after the morning.
I wake up in this hospital bed, with all those scary faces, all I say is:
"Now you see how I feel, Then you all care about me. I've screamed for help and the answear is just laughter from the other side."
They seems to take no notice and just wonder I did go this far with my arm?
All I said, this is a prof that I am alive, This shows me, I can feel! This shows me, I'm not as empty as I thought!
And the red liquid comeing out, It makes me feel alive in a new way, to experience the taste I never thought I could call forth.
But they watch at me with angry eyes, no one seems to notice how I really feel, and just tells me to stop, I just take their time.
Angry I start shout at them, When I finally find something that makes me feel, why should I stop?!
They watch me, telling me, you're just in the way, you egoistik asshole, you just want people to acknowledge you.
I watch them and ask, If I really wanted them to acknowledge me, I could just kidnapp them, torture them, and say, I'm the superior one.
But I decided I'm not going to do that, because, they aren't worthy of my existens, everyone in the room laughs.
Telling me, I'm the on not worthy their existance, and that's why, no one wants me in their life, because, I'm an eye sore with my arms.
They kick me out after that, and I come home, my parents just screams at me. then continues with their stuff.
Yet again, I take this knife out, yet again, I cut myself, yet again, I get this thrill running trough me, yet again, I see this red liquid.
And with all my might, I yet again, lick it up, Feeling with proud, that I really is worth something, else I wouldn't taste like this.
And one more time. Just one more time, I do this, but now, filled with despair, anger, loneliness,sadness, and the wish to be loved.
The day after, in school, no one talks with me, everyone just stare me out as "that" kid, with a stay away sign over my head.
Suddenly, I find this girl, she's cute, she's nice, she's funny, she's someone to be there.
But as always, I'm to late for her, I'm lost in my search for being alive.
Instead of curiosity, instead of pain, instead of the red liquid, instead of anything exept, Affection, I cut myself again.
And again, and deeper, and more often, the hunger of blood, grows bigger, and I bit for more, and more.
Due my wrists already is broken as they are, I look like a dog, chewing of the last bit of meat from my bone.
While I do that, my view get more dizzy, I lose my ability to stand, I pass out, and this time.
I didn't wake up in a hospital, this time, I didn't wake up at all.
This time, I was dead, and in the burial I had, my parents payed the gold just to get rid of this burden.
But the acctual cermony, There was this lonley girl, that had been my light.
Standing alone, Crying, I feel her tears, trough the sun glowing with all it might to show how happy it is for me to finally be gone.
Those tears, I can only wish, they turn out to be her strenght, to remember me, as "her" boy, instead of "that" boy.
-Simon H