Blood shot eyes
Awake in flashback nightmares
Screaming in silence
Lost in guilt ridden violence
Everyday is a brutal regime
There’s no distinguishing no changing
What I have done
Screaming victims is the war won?
A burning temper
A cold December
I try not to drink.
Realities torment I try not to think
Every time their faces come back to me
I stammer when I talk, I just can’t be
Screaming victim is the war won?
My family tries to support
My ravaged soul
I see the flames
They are burning out if control
In the distance a ray of light
Paralyzed by anxiety
I look to my family
Is the war won?
I am getting beaten
But I won’t back down
I forgive myself
I won’t back away
If there is a god
They’d forgive me I pray
I have let my war fade away…
Written in creative writing class.
It’s 3 am and I still can’t sleep,
When I think of the bullies at school I weep.
In creeps the hunger to cut and purge again,
The cut of the knife hurts me, though it focuses the brain.
Droplets of blood drip onto the floor
Dull and red, one blood stain more.
In my heart loneliness slowly kills
Making me feel isolated and numbing my will.
My parents are caught in their own private war,
Unaware of what’s happening behind my bedroom door.
My parents are furious at my falling marks at school,
However they haven’t noticed the cuts on my arms at all.
I am left in this house which feels unsafe and unlike a home.
I panic when I am left to my own devices all alone.
My breaths come fast, uneven and I feel sick,
Sometimes I can’t breathe at all, my heart races too quick.
When I was at primary school I had good friends.
These days I feel let down, they’ve turned out to be dead ends.
It’s a shame they all left me and shot through,
now bullies flock around like vultures picking at all I say and do.
Last Tuesday I bunked school and spent it walking around town
people stared at me, making me feel even more down.
I was feeling as if no one understood
So I went to a river near a wood.
I made for my house when it was time to go home,
but the school had already contacted my Mum by phone
My furious Dad threatened me with grounding.
I said “I don’t care! I like my own surroundings!”
The truth is I don’t want to feel anything anymore,
So I pick up the knife to cut myself some more…