Alive

I promised myself never again.

But promises don't really mean much to me.

No matter what I tried, I couldn't stop the voices.

The ones singing venomous melodies inside my head.

Haunting me, Taunting me.

Making a mockery out of my sad, little life.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I clutched that knife and dug into my skin.

One more scar added to the collection.

One more memory stitched on my wrist.

And I'll wake up tomorrow forgetting it ever happened.

Forgetting all about this vicious night.

I'll look in the mirror when I wake up,

And see the blood stained into my skin.

Another ugly scar that I cannot conceal.

Another reminder of my pain.

But right now, none of that matters.

Because tonight, the tears finally came.

And those tears mean I can feel once again.

And as long as I can feel, I'm alive.

Broken? Yes.

But goddamn it, I'm still alive.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Sometimes the tears must flow, for the release from within to subside and be seen with fresh eyes. The pain within us ebbs and flows, but knowing it is in ebb, despite the thanks for that, leaves you in the knowledge that it will flow again, at some point. Kind of like a good time spoiler, you always have the fear of its return when calmness does pay its fleeting visits.
Beautifulyl written. Felt every word.

[Sarah]

Thanks for the review! Glad you enjoyed it!

[Lorry]

You're very welcome :)

[B]

Sarah you are very talented
i feel like i am right there reading your poem
despair can take over
making it impossible to feel anything
i think this a very well done piece of writing and should be published

[Dr. YumnaKay]

"Another ugly scar that I cannot conceal.
Another reminder of my pain."
These lines so resonated with me. The pain in your composition was duly felt. Its too much relatable to me. Nicely penned.

[Mr. Lopez]

I'm not going to try to give life advice and I'm not much of a writer so I'll just shoot from the hip. I have to admit ,when I first started reading this I thought " not one of these kind of poems again..." But by the third and fourth lines I was hooked.this poem was dark,brooding,depressing..then invigorating all in one write. Being that you are a psychology student you would know better then most the benefits of coming to terms with these all too real and graphic emotions and thankfully you've found a constructive way of processing them. There's some strong phrasing that hurts your reader,cutting deep and allowing us all to bleed with you, to share the shame,if you will, of your self inflicted scars. I found this to be moving and powerful and I absolutely loved it. Great job young lady.

[Sarah]

Thank you for the review! Glad you enjoyed it!

[Chip Murison]

Again - very powerful.
I was once a self beater for the same reason.
Really great poem.

[zunie frost]

Wow great words !!

I love it superb job

[Ravi Ranjan Goswami]

But right now, none of that matters.
Because tonight, the tears finally came.

And those tears mean I can feel once again.
And as long as I can feel, I'm alive.

Broken? Yes.
But goddamn it, I'm still alive............very nice lines

[cimmy wuv xxxooo]

This is definitely written from your heart, it is extremely emotional and deep, and quite a powerful write.
It sounds like you are going through allot, I can only imagine how hard it would be to get addicted to self harm. Depression is hard and some people either resort to self harm, or drinking or drugs...
This was heartbreaking to read. I'm sure allot of people can relate to this poem.
I liked the ending because although it was sad it was real!
Tears mean pain, and pain and depression are hard, feeling can be very hard, sometimes you feel like you don't want to feel anymore, but when we feel, when we cry, we know we are alive like you said.
Really sad and heartbreaking poem, but very great write.
You have a real talent.
Keep writing :)

[Wolf_Lord]

You have a way of pulling up memories my dear... I went through a very dark period in my life... I had left a briefcase with everything I had ever written on a city bus... No comps then, no back ups and I never recovered it. Then my best friend was murdered... another best friend committed suicide in front of me... My grandfather died... all in the same year... It was as if a cloud of death was following me... I shut down completely... I was afraid to love of be loved, for it would cause your death. I quit writing for 3 years. Any time I tried to write it was dark and twisted and horrible, so I just quit trying.
Then I was on a bus from Santa Fe, NM to Albuquerque. An elderly gentleman came up from the back of the bus and sat next to me. He said "You are a writer aren't you. "I was," I replied. We talked for a long time. He told me finally; "Look, once a writer, always a writer... Here is what you need to do." He told me to write down every evil thought I had ever thought. To write down the name of every person I hated and why I hated them. To write down every nasty thing I wanted to do or could think of. Then he said; "When you are done... Read the whole thing though; and then burn it!"
I kind of thought the guy was crazy... But then I kind of thought I was crazy too. Manic depression and schizophrenia are common in my family, and I did not know it at the time, but I think I was clinically depressed. I would hide sometimes for days without communicating with friends or family, and just the thought of talking to someone, was too much for me to handle.
Finally, about three months after talking to that guy, I did it. I wrote in a fury for three days. It was about 60 pages long... It was the most horrible twisted crap my mind could think of or conceive.
I read it through and then... I burned it in one of those big cookie tins.
I felt a release as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders.
Then I sat down and re-wrote 'Witch of Salem...' a 9000 word poem which was the first poem I had ever written at the age of 16... Something I had thought lost forever... Then I recreated all of my prior works from scratch... Every single one that I had lost...
Then I started new works after I had finished those.
Now there was a difference though...
I was no longer afraid of the dark.
Before my collapse, all I had written was of beauty and light... Something sought but never attained.
Now that I had faced my inner fears and admitted my own faults I was released.
I was now able to write from literally any perspective. From that of a Saint to that of a Murderer.
I was a real writer now.
I only have one regret.
I wish I would have made a copy of that writing before I burned it.
For one to remind me both of what I had lost and what I had gained; for two because I could have gotten some real good story lines out of it. You see the majority of it I had auto-written and have no memory of.
And as for the mysterious man who had strangely identified me as a writer and given me the advice? I had never even asked him his name.
Then one day, I was reading a western book, which I rarely do but always enjoy... and on the back cover of the book was a picture of the author... It was the guy who had given me the advice which had changed my life.
His name was; Zane Grey.
So don't be afraid of the darkness and keep up the good work...
And believe me when I say... One day... Your will be able to write of the light again...
and when that day comes... You will be healed...
I no longer suffer from depressions, and recognize the signs of when I come close...
All this was well over 20 years ago... and I too was a victim of abuse as a child.
Now I am while not prosperous at least well off... A beautiful wife of 9 years in January and buying a house. I am happier than I have ever been in my life.
Sure I still have problems... Don't we all... But now I am able to deal with them move on.
I wish the same for you dear.
And thank you... I am going to use part of this conversation for my 'About' author notes for my new identity of Darker_Wolf.
Your new frn. Wolf ,'', ^@@^ ,'',

[Sarah]

I honestly don't even know what to say. That was very touching to read, and I thank you for sharing that story with me. You've already made an impact on me.

[Wolf_Lord]

It is in sharing our own pain, we are able to heal others... what better example could I make than my honesty? You shared your pain first, thereby opening the door... So I thank you as well. It is a great responsibility to be an author... One I think you will rise up to meet. That is why I was able to share with you. I see your potential and like the man who helped me, I felt the need to nurture it. To bring a smile to another person, or to bring them a moment of happiness, that is a true test of character. Especially though, to share your happiness when you have come out of the darkness. There is no better feeling than that, for it is by example that we can perhaps enrich the lives of others.
Wolf ,'', ^@@^ ,'',

[Astrid]

Very intense. Reminds me of adolescence. I find it hard to cry and when I feel the building of pent up emotions that I can't release I would remember the times when I use to cut to release them, like it was the only thing I could to help myself. This reminds me of that.