It's Getting Worse

How do I live

When all I want

Is to die?

How can I yearn for adventure

When I crave a casket?

I've tried three times

To grant my death wish

But apparently

I'm a failure at dying too.

This world burns

But I wake up cold

With icy hand prints on my body.

I stare at scars

Of my own making

And still wonder how they got there.

Did I cut myself?

Or does that one belong to him?

Is that one mine?

Or is that his handiwork?

I'm tired.

I want an eternity

Of dreamless sleep.

But every time I close my eyes

I see a shadow man of sharp things.

He leaves me black,

Blue,

And bloody.

Put me to sleep

And don't set the alarm.

What do I do

With a mind full of questions

That drip blood like tears?

How do I stop?

Reviews

[kentuck14]

Lexie,

I pray either this not the real you, or, you wrote this as experiment in feeling other's pain

[Brandon Wile]

A deep harrowing poem, I've been to this dark place before and it's not somewhere I hope to go again. Powerful

[Pete]

brutally honest from deep within. so tough to battle those demons. powerful stuff for certain.

[Einstein Noodle]

whew, Lexi!! so descriptive, emotive and touches such pain ... those from "him" or whoever, too much to express and so we carry physical scars in a vain attempt to set that pain free ... oh my goodness! a vicious cycle .... with depression the stir stick eh!? these lines here:
"But every time I close my eyes
I see a shadow man of sharp things." are incredible to me ... a nightmare waking between sleep and conscious thought ... your poem moves me on so many levels ... i feel helpless in the desire to reach out ... well done! the honesty and use of the language are brutal :((((((((((
E.

[Amaya]

I can relate to this so much. With the title being "It's Getting Worse," I can only hope that writing helps cope with the struggles you are facing because I know that without writing, I don't know where I would be today. The theme of suicide brought up in this piece reminded me of a time where I was really close to ending it all, I just couldn't take all the pain anymore. But the reason I never actually went through with it was because I didn't want to die and have lived such a miserable life. I realized that if I was dead and looking back at my life, I would have wished that I would have tried to fix things instead of giving up. Not only that, but in my eyes, ending my life would only mean that the guy who hurt me had "won." It would mean that even after he was out of my life, he had so much control over me that I couldn't bear it. And no matter how s****y I felt or was going to feel for the rest of my life, I knew I had to work my damn hardest to make sure that I moved past what he had done to me. He had already hurt me once, so I was no about to let him hurt me again by making me want to end my life. I hope that all of that made sense because I know it sounds a little contradictory. Point being, find your strength in your struggle so that you can take on the next day hopefully a little better than the day before.

[Crosby Idasa]

very nice write... this piece just gave me a remembrance of how many times I won death!