Metal To Flow (An Intense And Deep Poem)

When I sit alone in bed,

All these thoughts rush through my head.

Life is such a massacred,

I reach for his razor blades.

It's not for the kill, only the thrill.

For what I need to bleed,

Push the blade deep indeed.

I don't want to die,

And I do know why.

The pain I suffer I do deserve,

to feel the pain Is the right I reserve.

I'm a failure at all other,

As a sister, a wife, as a Mother.

In this world I never get it right,

I might as well give up this fight.

From metal to flow I need the blood to go,

I even need the welts to grow.

It brings me peace and makes me know,

There is a release, I won't suddenly blow.

And make the world see my rage,

Like a fine wine that's had time to age.

It stays in check hidden under its dorm,

Given time to ease as a new scar takes its form.

Leaving its mark forever more,

Reminding us pain can reach our core.

It can take your thoughts, truths, fears and beliefs,

And toss them among the roughest reefs.

Crashing and tossing in this chaotic ness,

Somewhere in you brews a bigger mess.

So once again it all builds high,

The tension is there and my arms, they cry.

They cry to feel that familiar blow,

From the blade, metal to flow.

The pain I suffer I do deserve.

To feel the pain Is the right I reserve.