A POEM, do you LIKE i!


Question: Wrote this last night, it needs work, I'm not happy with the ending, what do you think? Nor do I have a title, suggestions?

The scars remain, reflecting the ever lasting pain
Carved on my skin… Oh such sweet subtle sin
Now, until I rot, the truth will lay, naked and bare upon my wrists,
A pleasure too torturous to resist.

It’s clear you don’t understand, you blame it on insanity,
I’m apologetic, for I don’t fit in your society,
And so I crave for the blade, my reflex to pain, it’s almost magnetic
Please, don’t pretend you’re sympathetic,
I can’t bare your fake concern,
And then you turn your back, oh the anguish, I can feel it burn.
Don’t you see? I cut to forget, so just let me be,
Take your worried eyes and don’t return,
Leave me as I should be… Utterly alone.

But who am I telling to leave me?
Is there someone I cannot see?
I speak and write to no one in particular,
There’s nobody here, there’s no plural, it’s all quite singular.

Am I clinically insane?
Why do they all treat me with disdain?
Am I parasuicidal or just maniacal?

Listen, please listen
Help, please help
Care, please… care.

And so my call is not answered,
So it’s just me and my razor friend,
Together, will we find my end?


Answers: Wrote this last night, it needs work, I'm not happy with the ending, what do you think? Nor do I have a title, suggestions?

The scars remain, reflecting the ever lasting pain
Carved on my skin… Oh such sweet subtle sin
Now, until I rot, the truth will lay, naked and bare upon my wrists,
A pleasure too torturous to resist.

It’s clear you don’t understand, you blame it on insanity,
I’m apologetic, for I don’t fit in your society,
And so I crave for the blade, my reflex to pain, it’s almost magnetic
Please, don’t pretend you’re sympathetic,
I can’t bare your fake concern,
And then you turn your back, oh the anguish, I can feel it burn.
Don’t you see? I cut to forget, so just let me be,
Take your worried eyes and don’t return,
Leave me as I should be… Utterly alone.

But who am I telling to leave me?
Is there someone I cannot see?
I speak and write to no one in particular,
There’s nobody here, there’s no plural, it’s all quite singular.

Am I clinically insane?
Why do they all treat me with disdain?
Am I parasuicidal or just maniacal?

Listen, please listen
Help, please help
Care, please… care.

And so my call is not answered,
So it’s just me and my razor friend,
Together, will we find my end?

it's very sad! you feel for the person!
ok so... i would replace "clinically" with "considered" in the third paragraph down. any actual psychology terms suggest the person has actually researched the condition to write the poem.... not that they are an actual cutter.

Come on Paticular...singular? The thing with this is that you are trying way too hard. Poetry doesn't have to be this...depressing. I don't even understand a great deal of it. I would sit down and write from the heart instead of trying to write like Poe.



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