Chronological poems by myself.

these are poems all written by me, all in chronological order from the ones i wrote when I was younger, 'till I was older..

I realize some of the early ones are FREAKING emo as hell, but that's the way my life turned when I was growing up. I had a hard time dealing with the loss of my mother and this is how I vented.

NOTE: When I mention "I" in any poem, I am referring to myself.


I realize this is quite a bit, so kudos to anyone who actually reads these and provides sensible comments.


Criticism, opinions, and advice is always welcome.




"Lone Soul"

I lie here trembling, as I slide this blade across my flesh.
Trying to sow together, fabrics of my life that will never mesh.
My blood stained sheets, tell the story of my life.
And how my closest friend, has always been my knife.
There are other who walk through, and they all say they care.
Would you all just keep walking, it's not polite to stare.
I am just a burden, one that no one needs.
And when i pass away, i shall be the man that no one heeds.



"A Cutters Mind"

I will tell you if you are willing to listen,
though the words are hard to find,
I will let you see the honest truth,
spoken from a cutter's mind.

The razorblade became my very best friend
in my young teenage years,
I released the pain that hid inside
through a different type of tears.

The shining, sharp edges of my only friend,
so soon to hit a vein,
crimson rivers forming patterns,
- a bittersweet sort of pain.

My soul so slowly disappeared,
I could feel that it was gone,
but I never really had the time to care,
for I had my blade to rely on.

I always made sure to fake my smile,
I never gave them a reason to worry,
but each and every crimson scar
hid a secret story.

Every day, the same routine,
I put on my fake disguise,
and the razorblade helped me remove the pain
they could not read from my eyes.

Everything was dead in this uncaring world,
yet they didn't see how it hurt,
I couldn't express the pain I felt,
just choked on every word.

Therefore I relied on my dearest friend,
the one who pain releases,
my life was like a blackened puzzle
full of missing pieces.

But there was one piece that was missing
from the very painful start,
and I believe that missing piece
was the one that belonged to my heart.

They say they understand how I feel,
but the truth is, they never do,
you will never understand self harm
unless you have gone through it too.

I have been judged because I cut,
and each time it just gets tougher,
but before your prejudices start to unfold,
remember - I didn't choose to suffer.

It was not my choice to live like this,
have it run through every vein,
I did not choose to die inside,
to live my life in pain.

You may see someone shining, smiling,
but remember that depression deceives,
for that person may be hiding the darkest secrets
underneath those sleeves.



"Oil Painted Demons"

My bruises spread like a virus,
And cover my body whole.
The paint runs down my hands.
Ebony black devours my soul.
I cant seem to grasp the fact
That my demons are finger painted.
They are the creations of an innocent mind,
Who's very thoughts are tainted.
Vibrant oil demons
Are no longer canvas bound.
They drip and ooze from my heart,
Untill they cover the ground.
Crimson red blood
drips from my eyes.
splattered paint tears emphasize
these sick and twisted lies
These are my creations.
These demons are not real,
Just finger painted lies
To hide the way I feel.
Ashamed of the truth,
That all these demons are mine.
Hoping my tears will change,
And turn to terpintine.
They are my paint stained thoughts,
But I cannot make them die,
So I will drown in thier hate,
And scream oil painted cries.





"The Tragedy of Time"

In wasted years,
of fabled youth,
we find our fears,
are lost to the truth,

in childish lies,
belief is gone,
with clouded eyes,
it's all so wrong,

we believed in love,
and gods of light,
no one above,
for what do we fight,

the dark is cold,
within we cry,
in growing old,
we seek to die,

before the world,
has lost all magic,
inside we curl,
the end is tragic.




"Bled me dry"

Bled me dry and let me burn,
I never got all that I earned.
Cursed me while I breathed my last,
I am the pain, back from your past.
I’ll watch you die and watch you scream,
I’ll laugh just like you did to me.
I’ll squirm with pleasure as you cry,
I’ll giggle when you start to die.
I’ll mourn you for a moment, no more,
Then remember all the lives you tore.
Remember what you did to me,
Remember you and laugh and scream.
I’ll watch you burn in your own hell,
And bathe in all the pain you’ve felt.
My own dreams had worn so thin,
Now I’ll watch yours decay in sin.
Bled me dry and watched me burn,
Well, darling, now it's your turn.
---------------/\
--------------/__\
---------------l l
---------------Ll
NOTE: I had actually written this about the waste of life that ran head on into my mother's car.





"My Flame"

Veiled in shadows,
my thoughts to turn,
tainted light upon my face,
visions of you to burn,

this warmth saves me,
the cold settles round,
freezing the blood,
I've spilled upon the ground,

shatter my delusions,
I embrace the pain,
returning reality,
perception my bane,

I see no future without you,
my miracle flame,
embers rising with desire,
no secrets or shame,

must we move on,
this darkness not past,
I was never so strong,
but this love will last.

 

i dont get the one about your mother?

 

This is somewhat one of my harder pieces to talk about.. But here goes..

Bled me dry in the terms of he practically took my life from me.
I never got my revenge.

These two lines are like past and present.
Line 3 refers somewhat to line 1.
This entire poem I was thinking of what he would do and what I would do if I was ever given the chance to confront him.

Pretty self-explanitory.

He hurt not only me by killing my mother but others as well of course.

Self-explanitory.

I can only hope that he must have felt some pain and regret afterwards.. I hope..

A lot obviously changed in my life..

Again, what I would do if I met him. Was contemplating finding him and excercising an action far surpassing revenge..

Posted by: Eatmewhileimhot

To be completely honest, this is one of the more simple, and easy ones to understand. I have no clue how you don't understand it, but somehow managed to understand the harder ones...?

 

This is the poem I liked the most. Also liked the one about the guy who crashed into..
Hmm you are really tallented

 

Nice collection of poems mate, and if you composed them yourself they are really nice, good job.

 

Yes, I did compose them myself. Thank you for your interest, and sorry I didn't get back sooner.

 

The tragedy of time one was good, the others I didn't like. Good nonetheless.

 

Personally, I like Tragedy of Time because it's overal, it's just more mature. It was also of of the later poems I had written, meaning I was a bit older than when I had written the previous more depressive ones.

 

It's the tradgeys of the past that make our lives filled with depression, and the fake smile on their face, as they slip past aggression. When your mother died, many mourned, and when the driver dies, he'll face what he had sworn.


Hope this helps a bit if it partially cheers you up about your mother.
-Tmac

 

No worries, good stuff though.
In the end, I'll be laughing, with a smile on my face,
While I watch him scream in agony, for what ye has disgraced.

 

I like "A Cutter's Mind". I can relate to some aspects of it, and understand others.

 

i like the tragedy in time

 

Nice mate.

 

Thanks guys, appreaciate the feedback. ;D

 

I LOVE the "A Cutters Mind"

Very well done

 

Not bad the best one in my humble opinion is
"The Tragedy of Time"

 

I think younger people, with a darker/certain side to them, tend to like A cutter's mind more, because it deals with an issue a lot of people are familiar with; whereas Tragedy of Time is more of a mature topic, that anyone can relate to of course. But I've basically said this before..

Try to let me know what you guys liked and didn't like guys, it helps the writer quite a bit.

 

These are all very professional, I don't seem to really like the emo ones though.

 

your awsome

 

This is a very good stanza, because unlike a few of them, you don't change the words to force in a rhyme. The imagery is sickening and realistic and it really paints a picture. These are pretty good, maybe try to work on one not quite so dreary? It may make YOU feel better.