Cutting
First comes pain.
Then bleeding rains.
A sweet escape from this blasted shame.
Cutting away to stop the flame.
That all this saddness brings.
Fast relief when I touch the blade.
Across my skin great relese it brings.
It doesn't last for very long.
Though I'll keep doing it till the pain is gone.
To watch the blood pour from my arm.
Makes me happy with no sense of harm.
Perhaps one day I'll go too far,
and ultimatley end up buying the farm.
You can't understand this frightful charm.
If you've never done it you can't discern.
The escape you feel in cutting burns.
It takes my mind from the hurtful world.
Where I can make no sense of a single word.
This is how the truth is learned.
Cutting away with forceful turns.
poem by Michael McParland
Added by Poetry Lover
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