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If these razors could talk, they'd spin tales of stories so intricate like the inside of a body, funny because that's how it felt every time a thin red line pouring out failure always seemed to feel like. If they could tell you anything I'd hope they'd tell you how hard I fought to keep it hidden and inside a box. Instead of thinking outside that box I would be caged inside it shoved in like sardines, that must be how it felt when they found the tools of new beginnings inside a container that blared the words normal in a big red sign. The color red will never seem normal to me I've seen it on sheets pooling out over my hands. The metal was a sidetrack a bump in the road the only one to feel it was the inside of these clothes and now they have left their mark. If the skin I crawl under could somehow paint you a time of when everything seemed "fine" I hope to god it twists your stomach like the veins inside my wrists curl around the bone woven together like the sewing needle my grandma just can't put down. The doctors glares were as cold as how each and every razorblade kiss was . if these razors could somehow show you that it was not their fault but mine, even the slightest twitch makes it seem impossible to not go back again and yet they are still there they chant the same tune every night and if you'd listen a little closer it'd go something like this "you got a little something on that clean skin you've covered up just enough and its time to pick your weapon and let the ritual of sins begin. Come a litter closer we can show you the world you won't have to feel and it'll be like a drug. Don't think just let the sharp begin to bite and I tell you now you can sleep tonight" the singsong rant is as empty as my box but yet it wounds deeper than I ever could. If these razors could talk, I hope and pray they tell you of every time there words got wedged into my skin like tiny little slivers from a wooden deck I had never sat on. If the sheets I tied over ever open wound showed you the evidence of an unfinished crime scene would you be able to stomach the fact these blades have control. If these razors could talk they'd tell you they aren't finished with me yet.
trigger warning for self harm
  Oct 2015 kaleigh michelle
V
It happens like this.

"One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else--closer to them than your closest family. Perhaps this person carries within them an angel--one sent to you for some higher purpose; to teach you an important lesson or to keep you safe during a perilous time. What you must do is trust in them--even if they come hand in hand with pain or suffering--the reason for their presence will become clear in due time."

Though here is a word of warning--you may grow to love this person but remember they are not yours to keep. Their purpose isn't to save you but to show you how to save yourself. And once this is fulfilled; the halo lifts and the angel leaves their body as the person exits your life. They will be a stranger to you once more.

-------------------------------------------------

It's so dark right now, I can't see any light around me.
That's because the light is coming from you. You can't see it but everyone else can.
I don't own this poem; it belongs to Lang Leav.
kaleigh michelle Oct 2015
Sometimes I wonder what freedom feels like.
What fresh air feels like in my lungs.
What a "good day" truly feels like.

But then sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not have fears.*
To not be cripppled by anxiety over the thought of being around people.
To not have thoughts running marathons in my head.

And then sometimes I wonder what life would be like without the pain of depression.
What it feels like to be okay.
**What normal feels like.
I keep feeling myself
Falling into pieces
While I feel you falling
In another pattern
No matter what
I'll be here to pick you up
I'll pick up the pieces
And put you back together

I love you more than words can say
And I won't make you stay
If you feel the need
I will not fight out of greed
No
I'll fight because
I love you

I know the depression
Will make you think horrible dark thoughts
But those are lies
You will not hurt me
There is no way you could

I love you
And again I'll fight
To be able to never stop
Holding you tight
Please come here
I won't bite
I'll hold you
Until morning light..
I love you, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere and I'll fight and give my all to see us grow.
  Oct 2015 kaleigh michelle
NV
BUT YOU HAVE TO STOP TELLING PEOPLE,
THAT NO ONE WILL LOVE THEM UNTIL THEY START LOVING THEMSELVES.
YOU HAVE TO STOP PLANTING THIS IDEA IN PEOPLES BRAINS THAT THEY ARE UNWORTHY OF LOVE,
JUST BECAUSE OF THEIR OWN STRUGGLE.
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